When in Rome be like the Romans
by windwraith
Summary: 12 AD Treize Kushrenada is a roman noble and head of the Ordo Equester, the Knights of Rome. Now he is introducing 5 new slaves into his household but all is not as it seems. Continuation of "All Roads Lead to Rome" Support historically plausable fan-fic
1. Preparations for the Day

"When in Rome be like Romans"

Slaves of Rome part II

* * *

Authors introduction:

This is the sequel to my most popular story to date. All Roads lead to Rome has received over 12,000 hits and more than 150 reviews. Many-thanks all! If you have read part one you know I like research and incorporate it into my story as best I can. Each chapter will be followed with a notes section providing additional peaks into the rational behind the tale. I suggest you read All roads first if you have not already done so, it introduces you to the roman world during the reign of Cesar Augustus. (12 AD) and tells you how our favorite GW characters came to be where they are, as slaves of Treize Khushrenada and his aide-de-camp Zechs Merquise.

Chapter 1: Preparations for the Day

Trejanus Kushrenada Zeno woke slowly to the sound of bird song. His chamber was still cool and sunlight was only just beginning to filter in from the silted window that opened into the atrium. He stretched and turned over. A metal tray had been set on his bedside table…A sign that Zechs had already been and gone, careful not to disturb the master of the house as he slept.

The ginger haired noble sat up and leaned over to remove the cover from the tray to reveal …lettuce leaves…fresh cut lettuce leaves and clean strips of cloth. He sighed. Everyone knew Treize had an appreciation for roses. It would be nice to see some, freshly cut first thing in the morning…their fragrance nudging him gently from the silken folds of sleep. Zechs would never think of such a thing and he dared not hint. It just wasn't done. And so the tray contained a wordless rebuke from his ever practical second.

The frustrating blonde KNEW he had overdone things yesterday. When the master of the Saepta arcana tabulata catastae brokered the deal to sell him five exotic slaves before they went on public auction the man had directed that he be sure to enjoy them. Treize highly doubted accepting to duel one of them was what the man had in mind. But matching skill with the fiery WuFei had been a genuine treat. Even so, he was paying for it now. Treize was reluctant to go to Mistress Po and endure one of the healer's lectures; but there was no escaping his aide-de-camp's well meaning gestures.

Treize frowned. His eternal friend Seax MereKāser, or Zechs Merquise as the name was rendered in formal Latin, was many things; barbarian, prince, legionnaire & former gladiator just to name a few, but he was no chamber slave. Hopefully the newest acquisitions to his household would be taking up some of those duties. It was an insult for the young man to demean himself by setting out Treize's clothing and seeing young Mariemaia, had tidy bed linens. Yet Zechs chose to serve in this way as he did so many others. The man was indispensable and his faithfulness was more than Treize deserved.

The fact woke a stab of guilt in his breast. He _hated_ keeping secrets from his most treasured friend. Treize knew just how important news of the Dēorlinde was to his friend. Zechs' father the Mighty Sea king of the Rus had named Govener Varus protector of his precious shield, years ago and, as far as the former prince was aware, that was still the case. But Treize knew different.

Arminius, a man Treize's father had trusted with his life when they fought alongside one another in the Pannonian wars, (BC 12-BC 8), had gone rogue taking his Cherusci fighters with him. Other barbarian tribes united under his banner. The Marsi, Chatti, Bructeri, Chauci and Sicambri were all taking up arms against the forces of Rome. Governor Varsus was two years dead and the Dēorlinde was lost. It was a bad omen to say the least. If it caused King Marbod of the Marcomanni to abandon the treaty with Rome joining his forces with Arminius, then all Zech's father worked and sacrificed for would be lost. The peace he crafted would be shattered for all time.

Treize's fists bunched up the thin blanket that had acted to protect him against the chill of night. He was doing everything in his power to recover the Dēorlinde from Arminius, and as leader of the equestrian order his influence was considerable indeed. He might not have the same strength of command as he had had as Emperor Augustus's Primus Pilus (primary general) but the man who currently held that title was still loyal to him. And Germanous was surely a force to be reckoned with. It said much that Emperor's grandson would search every stand of trees and riverbed in the Rhineland to find the answers Treize needed. But it just wasn't the same as doing the legwork yourself and sadly that ability was beyond him now.

Treize sighed. Having Zechs worry about things he could not change served no purpose. Besides, Treize did enough of that for the both of them. He just felt so helpless. The noble inched himself painfully to the edge of the bed. With the ease that came with years of practice he swaddled the cool lettuce leaves, still damp with dew, around his swollen knee and bound them tightly with the bandage.

The sounds of battle still tainted his dreams. Many nights he heard his horse scream as a terrified boy plunged his ash spear into its belly. He felt the mighty beast crumple beneath him and the bone jarring crunch his knee made when he made contact with the blood drenched soil. In a fraction of a heartbeat…visited in countless nightmares his brilliant military career was over.

The legion's best Greek physician had done his best to mend the twisted joint. Anointing it with honey and lashing it between stout tree branches to strengthen. The limb wasn't deformed, as was the case for many who incurred such injury, but it hadn't been a sterling success either. A fact he was reminded of every time he over extended himself. There was nothing quite like having to face your own weakness first thing in the morning. Was it petty to wish for roses instead of lettuce leaves?

Probably, He admitted with a sigh then smirked. So he was no longer a great general…that did not mean his life was over. He would not be giving up anytime soon. Roses or no roses, each day was an adventure and this one was just beginning. He owed it to Zechs and there were others who needed him too. He WAS head of house after all and the size of his household had more than doubled with the inclusion the new slaves. Treize ran his fingers through sleep mussed ginger hair rose to face the challenges that awaited him.

Section 1 Notes:

Trejanus Zeno: Janus was the Roman god of gates, doors, doorways, beginnings, and endings. He is honored at the start of journeys and enterprises. Janus is also the root for the Roman word meaning door. Janus is depicted as having two heads or faces and is known for his vigilance. Janus represents time, looking both into the past and future at the same time. The doors to his temple were open during war-time so he could watch what was going on and closed during peace. The first month of the year, January, is named after him. Zeno is Greek name meaning gift or cart. It reflects Treize's mother's Greek heritage. Trejanus Zeno would denote "the gift of Janus or the 13th of January," So in this story Treize is named after his birthday as much as his character.

_Arminius_: Latinized variant of the Germanic name Irmin meaning "great" Also a historical figure, he was Germanicus chief adversary. Arminus left his mark on the historical record between 4 and 11 AD I am shifting the timeline a bit so he is still powerful. He unified some of the tribes and made a stand against the Romans winning a decisive victory in the Teutoburg Forest. He sent Varus's head to king Marbod in hopes to gain his aid. Marbod was appalled and sent the head to Rome for proper burial. In midst of battle His brother Flavus stood with Rome and tried to convince Arminius to give up. His brother tried to sway Flavus stand with his people instead. Nothing was resolved for either of them eventually Arminius was assassinated by one of his lieutenants who thought he was getting too powerful.

_Germanicus__:_ is an actual historical figure considered one of Rome's most beloved generals. By an interesting tangle in the family tree, he was related to six Roman Emperors and indirectly to two more. He was grandson to Augustus by blood, marriage and by adoption. He was named heir to Emperor Tiberius (at his grandfather's request). He was brother of Emperor Claudius, Father of Caligula, Grandfather of Nero. In addition, Mark Antony, right hand of Julius and Octavian Cesar, was his grandfather on his mother's side. He died under suspicious circumstances at the age of 35. His Emperor/uncle/stepfather, Tiberius, was suspected of having him poisoned. If Germanicus had lived to rule I believe a very bloody period of history could have been avoided. I expect you can see why I think Treize would have been drawn to him; they are kindred spirits after all.

Medical procedures in ancient Rome: Yes, as unlikely as it sounds honey and lettuce or cabbage leaves were thought to have tremendous curative properties. Doctors in the ancient times were not looked upon with a very high view of professional performance, as most of them were freedmen or slaves and many were little better than charlatans and quacks. There were some however, who did attempt to improve their medical knowledge, even though they still combined medical techniques together with superstition. Greek medical information seemed to have been based mainly on scientific data, and observation. Roman medicine borrowed much from the Greek, but combined it with local religious or mythical views.


	2. Fit Fashion for Function

Chapter 2: Fit Fashion for Function

"I'm not sure I am all right with this Kat," Duo faltered, he and Quatre were alone in the slave quarters getting ready for the day.

The blonde boy gave his friend an indulgent smile. "You look fine, seriously. Parthian styles are the height of fashion among high status slaves. I dressed like this all the time for Mistress Dermail. You will be surprised how comfortable it is." Quatre thought it best not to inform the braided boy this particular style had gained its popularity because it was used in the Padishah's harem.

The blonde knew this was fact. He has been attached to the court of the Parthian Prince Vonones Rome a guests/hostage of Emperor Augustus. When the old Shah died Prince Von was permitted to return to his homeland to lead his people. His young son Mithri had been in tears when he learned Quatre would not be returning with them to Parthia. He had been disappointed as well. Quatre enjoyed the princes company and, in addition to dreading being sent back to the slave market, he had hoped to find word of his people in the desert.

The following year, while in service to Duke Dermail, Quatre overheard that a faction rose in opposition to Padishah Vonones. The thought was that his years as a political hostage left him 'too roman'. If only his people could understand the mark that worthy noble had left on the Emperors court they might not have judged him so harshly.

The blonde shook his head, forehead creasing at the memory. As he heard it, civil unrest opened the door for a nomad prince called Artabanus to take the Parthian crown. Last Quatre had heard his gracious former master, and childhood friend were an exiles somewhere in Syria. He crossed his arms and sighed forlornly.

Duo bit his lip thinking the blonde's frown was meant for him. Duo was more than a little self-conscious. It wasn't all that surprising actually. The boy was a thief and an urchin. He spent his entire life on the streets. It was only chance that had made him a slave of Rome. He had never worn clothing of this type and it felt strange and looked dubious at best. The '_Sharwal_' Quatre loaned him was like a loincloth only more complex. Loose sheaths of midnight blue silk encased each leg and there was a drawstring gathering the loose fabric around his slim waist and ribbons at each ankle pull the cuffs tight.

Duo trusted Quatre. He _knew_ the blonde had been a slave for most of his life and ought to know what was appropriate. All his instincts told him the blonde boy just wasn't the type to purposefully steer someone wrong, but living on the streets taught him 'anything that can go wrong…will go wrong.' "What if the string comes loose?" The urchin fretted toying with the drawstring. It was easy to imagine the slick fabric slipping down around his ankles leaving him completely exposed. Still

"They won't fall off. I promise," Quatre assured him "But if you are worried—" he tied a wide a gold sash tightly around the other boy's waist. "—that should help. Now, let's see how the _Kubran_ looks."

While the 'Sherwal' was significantly more than a standard loincloth the '_Kubran'_ was much less than a tunic. The lower hem of a tunic generally went to mid thigh or knee, decently covering the fork of the legs. This garment seemed child-sized by comparison. The light-blue material scarcely covered his chest, leaving his arms bear and the hem was so short it left the lower portion of his back exposed. "Are you sure it isn't too small? You are shorter than I am."

"Duo, you look fine. Please stop fretting," The blond chided.

It was only due to Quatre's thoughtfulness he had something suitable to wear at all. Duo contritely toyed with the fringed end of his braid.

The young blonde had to smile encouragingly at the amethyst eyed boy. "Where are the armlets Master Treize let you have?" Quatre asked, feeling his own mood lighten as he attempted to cheer the other boy.

"On my bed." Duo motioned with the chestnut tail.

The blonde's hasty step carried him to the far side of the slaves' sleeping chamber. Duo and Heero's beds sat at right angles to one another in the corner, opposite those claimed by Trowa and himself. The four had been grateful that WuFei had volunteered to take the bed nestled up against the screens dividing the sleeping area from the sitting area. It seemed more secure to have ones back against solid walls. That way no one could sneak up on you from behind.

Of the two beds on that side of the room there was no denying which bed belonged to whom. Everything about Heero fairly breathed 'discipline' and his bed was no exception. The young gladiator's sleeping pallet was neat as a pin. The blankets were folded and not a pillow was out of place. Duo's, by contrast, was a rumpled mess; blanket, pillows, clothing…all wound together with a slightly hollowed-out place in the middle.

"On the bed you say? More like in it. One would expect a strange bird to sleep in such a nest." The blond probed around in the middle, finally coming up with the twin bands of metal. "Are these the sort of eggs you lay?" He laughed returning to the center of the room to hand them to his friend.

Duo snorted. At another time he might have met that remark with his best chicken impression, but right now he just didn't feel up to his usual clowning. He wordlessly slid the thick bands over his biceps barely taking the time to admire the delicate engraving and overlay of bronze and gold. It was ironic that when he was free Duo dressed in rags now as slave, he was clothed in silks and gold. As far as Duo could tell, Master Treize was either, the most generous…or the craziest, noble in the entire empire. He had yet to make up his mind as to which.

Once Quatre was satisfied, Duo was ready for his first full day as a working slave he could finish getting himself ready. Honestly he had always been most comfortable dressed as Duo was now, but at present that style conflicted with his assigned duties. Sometimes it was useful to be underestimated…hence Duo's 'disguise'. But He would be assisting Master Treize with his accounts and needed to project a feeling of competence to the locals.

The blonde donned a tunic of fine linen with an intricate design of gold and silver thread woven into the collar and cuffs. His belt was also gold with the wolf's head of house Kushrenada emblazoned on the clasp. Any slave working in a position of trust was required to have their master's mark visible. It was something the blond slave never thought to have after the debacle that earned his dismissal from the Dermail holdings and nearly cost him his life.

His former disgrace was still alive in his mind. The reason was obvious. Each step Quatre took was accompanied by the tiny tinkle of bells, a signal he had tried to runaway from his previous master. It was written in his contract that he must wear the anklet as a reminder of his guilt and a signal to those around him to ensure he didn't attempt such a thing again. Not that he would.

Lord Kushrenada was nothing like his last master. In fact, Master Treize told Quatre he suspected his Uncle Dermail had been insane to think feeding a slave to eels was an acceptable punishment for breaking an expensive carafe of wine. As far as he was concerned Quatre's actions were understandable, and if not exactly appropriate for one of his status. No one wants to die and being eaten alive was a horrible prospect to be sure. Quatre had seen other slaves meet their end in that fashion and the memory still made him shiver.

Master Treize forgave him his panicked attempt at self preservation and took the opportunity to purchase him along with Heero, Trowa, Duo and WuFei before they even came to auction. What is more; Master Treize had gone out of his way to treat his new possessions with honor and respect…almost as equals. It was an unprecedented circumstance and went a long way toward earning the loyalty of the five slaves.

"Come on Duo, we've dawdled here long enough it is time to go to work!" Quatre smiled cheerfully to the other boy.

"Work, right," Duo said with a sigh. He was illiterate. He couldn't help with the accounts like Quatre and WuFei. He wasn't a trained fighter like Heero and Trowa so he couldn't be a guard. All he was suited for was sitting on a pillow at his master's feet and look pretty, like a braided lap dog. He had been a master thief. Living on the streets taught him it was safest going unseen. He only made a spectacle of himself when he was playing decoy for the other beggar boys. This situation wounded his dignity more than a bit.

"Stop being such a storm cloud!" Quatre had just about enough of his friend's sullen attitude. With his hands on his hips he challenged, "Treize made it clear he didn't purchase any of us to be house pets. You say you are a favorite of the god of death…whether you call him Orcus or Shinigami. He hates lies right? You said you can tell when a person lies…that is why you never do. If someone is trying to lie to Master Treize signal him somehow. Let him know, without letting anyone else know that you know. You aren't a lap dog. We know it, M'lord Zechs knows it, and Master Treize knows it. If others underestimate you then that can only be to our advantage."

Duo frowned. He hadn't said he felt like a lap dog…at least not out loud. The blond did that sometimes, he seemed to know things he shouldn't. It was strange. Quatre jolted him from his thoughts by smacking him not so lightly on the chest. "Now…try to look demure and innocent." Quatre grinned and his luminous sapphire eyes gleamed merrily. "Pout a little," he instructed. "Let's see those soulful puppy-eyes that used to make people shower you in coins."

"They never showered me with anything but dirty wash-water," Duo whined a little. "Heero and Trowa were champions in the arena THEY got showered in coins. I was a beggar. The coins I got trickled in one at a time." The most skilled thieves knew it was never wise to empty a bulging purse. That tended to get owners attention rather quickly. The object was just to lighten it a bit.

"No one ever showered WuFei with coins either. As important as he pretends to be, he was only a temple slave in Chang'an. Treize says a persons' value is not measured in coin. He is our Master, we have to believe him." Quatre placed a hand on each of Duo's shoulders stared intently into his near violet eyes. "You CAN do this" he said, then forcibly turned Duo around and shoved him gently toward the door. "Go." He said and trailed after his friends swishing braid.

---------------------------

Section 2 Notes

The Parthians came from the deserts of central Asia and conquered the area that is today Iran, Iraq, Turkey, Armenia, Azerbaidzhan, Turkmenistan, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Syria, Lebanon, Jordan, and Israel. They were one of the few people who successfully resisted the Roman Empire by defeating Alexander the great and later Mark Anthony weakening the army enough that Octavian could successfully take the throne.

Quatre's clothing Parthians coins and art of depict them with short crossover jackets and large baggy trousers. Trousers were warn by various 'barbarian' tribes but were relatively new to Rome. The Sherwal was first introduced in Phoenicia in the sixth century B.C. the Kubran In its oldest form it was long sleeved bolero jacket made of velvet embroidered with gold or silver thread or ornamental brocade. Only much later did this garment evolve into a brief vest similar to those favored by our Quatre.

Vonones I of Parthia and his son Mithridates were hostages in Rome from 20 BC to on 6AD the Parthans requested he be returned to them. The people thought he was too 'Roman'a mearly a puppet of the emperor. He could not hold his kingship and he fled to Armenia and became king there till he was officially deposed by Artabanus II in 12 AD. Quatre refers to Vonones as "Padishah" this title is a combination of the Persian words pād meaning "master" and the better-known title shāh meaning "king"

Orcus was a Roman god of the underworld, punisher of broken oaths, more equivalent to Pluto or Dis Pater, god of the land of the dead than to the Greek Hades. Evidence suggests a temple to Orcus existed on the Palatine Hill in Rome. Duo spent many afternoons begging on the steps of this temple, and several other temples. In "All Roads" he reflects that Solo counseled him more than once that he should choose a more forgiving patron than the god of death but Duo had been determined. His friend's death did not alter his affections since the god of death brought people relief from suffering. Apollo, the sun god, was the one responsible for ill-health and plague and also the one with the ability to cure. I suspect Duo's preference for wearing dark clothing is a sign of his disaffection for Shining Apollo.

Ch'ang-an became the capital city of Imperial China sometime before 210 BC and served that purpose for more than ten dynasties. The name literally means "Perpetual Peace" in Classical Chinese. During the short-lived Xin Dynasty during which WuFei left his homeland, the city was renamed Chang'an or "Constant Peace" (As I understand it different symbols were used to write the name but both are pronounced the same way in Mandarin) Is in any surprise that Chang WuFei would hail from Chang'an? Even as when cast as a slave, he is still the "Chang of Chang." But more on that later.

----------------------------


	3. Target of Oppurtunity

Chapter 3: Target of Opportunity

Heero and Trowa stood at attention on each side of the door to the Audience chamber where generations of Khushrenada lords have conducted the business of their estate and those beholden to them. Both gladiators wore matching tunics of rusty brown and black capes fastened with the Kushrenada wolf's head. They wore belts similar to those of a roman legionnaire but instead of the standard military breast plates they wore their individualized armor from the arena.

Though he had most recently served as a beast tamer behind the scenes of the Circus Maximus, Trowa had first been a gladiator. More specifically he was a _Retarii _armed with a net and trident. A thick leather belt encircled his midriff with a strong strap going over one shoulder to support a well wrought sleeve of gleaming metal scales and chain mail. His opposite wrist sported a studded leather cuff and boiled leather and grieves covered the straps that lashed his sandals to his calves. A final touch had been a silver circlet, resting on his brow, preventing his characteristically uneven bangs from falling in his face.

Like Trowa, Heero wore studded leather bracers on his wrists and grieves on his calves. In addition he wore a helmet with back swept wings. An 'X' shaped harness crossed his chest and braced the sheaths of the twin short swords on his back. A round leather shield with brass studs was clipped to the ring where the belts crossed his chest. These were the arms of the tenacious _Scissori._ Heero had been a champion in the Statilii Tauri Amphitheater before he had broken his vow, by refusing to act as executioner of innocents.

In the natural way of things Scissori and Retarii were blood rivals. The two gladiators should not have been content flanking the doorposts, like a pair of greek statues. They certainly shouldn't have been exchanging sly smiles when they noticed Duo and Quatre emerge from the opposite wing of the manor to make their way across the courtyard. But now that Treize was their _Dominus_ (master) and Zechs their _Lanista_ (manager) life as they knew it had changed.

Sometime during the previous day the independent gladiators became part of a team. It had happened quite unexpectedly while WuFei enlisted their help rearrange the furniture in the slave quarters to fit some near mystical strictures common in his homeland. (feng shui) Now both warriors had come to the realization that it felt surprisingly good to set aside their competitive nature and work to achieve a shared goal. Granted after lives of solitude it felt strange having someone trusted to guard your back, but it would be foolhearty to ignore the benefits.

----------------------

Duo was walking stiffly across the cobbles careful not to soil his fine silk slippers. The slim blonde trailed in his wake hugging himself in contentment, his steps were light and he swayed almost dancing to the rhythm of the bells at his ankle.

Trowa's naturally quiet voice greeted them, "You are in a good mood." He observed.

"I am." Quatre admitted his fair skin showed a delicate blush. "Duo is nervous. But I know everything will be fine. Is Zechs going to have you two stationed out here the entire time?"

"Once petitioners start to arrive we will stand inside to keep an eye on them, but he wants us to stay by the door unless trouble starts," Heero explained his voice cool and calm as usual.

"Does he expect trouble?" Duo wanted to know.

"Nothing we can't handle," Heero shrugged offhandedly. "But I put a knife under the edge of your cushion just in case. You are our last line of defense. I expect you to be ready to help defend Master Treize if some local lunatic lunges at him."

"I-I can do that." Duo answered surprised, perhaps he WAS meant to be more than a lap dog.

"Told you so." Quatre smiled and gently guided Duo through the door.

As they brushed past Duo thought he heard Heero whisper, "Silks suit you." Something that might have been a hum of agreement came from Trowa.

--------------------

"Where have you been!" WuFei demanded before their eyes had even adjusted to the cool dimness of the hall.

"I was helping Duo get ready. I told you during breakfast that was what I was going to do." Quatre rolled his eyes at the uptight Asian.

"He wasn't awake enough to understand what anyone said during breakfast." Zechs chuckled setting the ornately carved chair down on the dais where Treize would soon be holding court. "You are awake now though aren't you Dragon." The platinum-haired soldier teased.

"Barbarians!" WuFei sputtered. He seemed very official in his severely cut robe. An ornamental silver chain hung around his neck with the Kushrenada wolf's head worked between the links. His shoulder-length raven hair was pulled back in a tight topknot but if one looked close they would notice that the tail was still sopping wet. WuFei wasn't sure who the mastermind was behind this morning's 'adventure,' but he had his suspicions.

After breakfast he had gone to the bathhouse for his morning ablutions….

After all public baths were common in his home in the eastern empire and this had been the first time he'd been permitted to indulge in that particular luxury since master Ron had been killed leaving him a slave alone in a very alien culture. Like Quatre, WuFei's papers decreed he was to wear an anklet of bells because he had attempted escape, multiple times in fact. Unlike Quatre his bells had been larger and the anklet had been riveted in place. Also unlike Quatre, WuFei despised those bells with unbridled passion. Kushrenada liberated him from that disgrace. WuFei's personal honor would not admit that this one small kindness made him feel indebted to the man, whom the will of Tian made his master, but it was fact none the less. He wouldn't be trying to escape again.

In order to fulfill the requirements of his contract, Treize let him choose the smallest, most delicate anklet; it possessed only a single tiny chime. And that he would only have to wear on formal occasions, such as this. The master's generosity and understanding had also gone a great way to earn WuFei's loyalty; Treize earned the rest in a contest of arms. And Since being taken as a member of this household he had found his master and fellow companions amiable and more accommodating than any others he had chanced to meet in this godforsaken empire. He was beginning to suspect he might even come to like it here—

—Then, without any provocation whatsoever, Heero, Trowa and Zechs snuck up behind him, scooped him off his feet, and tossed him bodily into the cold water of the largest pool in the _frigidarium_! When he had stopped sputtering and made his way to the stone stairs. Even Treize, was smirking at him from where he reclined soaking in the smaller, warm water, pool. WuFei was loyal yes. But that did not give them the right to…take liberties with his person. The young dragon scowled darkly.

Duo snickered. He wished he had been there to see the look on Fei's face! He certainly couldn't say they hadn't warned him.

~Earlier that morning~

Breakfast had definitely been a surprise for Duo. As a street urchin, he relied on the emperor's bread…a charity provided for the poor or unemployed of the capital. Sometimes it was all he had to eat all day. Most people he knew in the capital began their day with bread: dry or dipped in wine mixed with water. Sometimes, if they were lucky they had olives, cheese, or raisins sprinkled on the bread. Duo hadn't expected more, neither had Heero or Trowa.

As gladiators in training they were given oat mash or pancakes in the morning…but they weren't exactly in training now so they hadn't known what to expect. Their new master had fed them well the night before--another big meal so soon after the previous seemed excessive. But when they followed Zechs downstairs to the dining room, the tables had been set with fresh meat, fish, fruits, vegetables, bread, and honey.

Quatre was familiar with the appetites of roman nobility. He had served them for much of his life. This morning he had been ready, and eager to wait table for his new master. He knew how to cut a nobles food for them and how to stand by with a wet towel to wipe their hands between courses, but Treize insisted they were "quite old enough to feed themselves, thank you." As a veteran of the campaign he knew the importance of self-sufficiency and thought it best to model that trait for his daughter Mariemaia. "It is going to be a busy day, the food is for all of us, eat!" he had encouraged.

As they obeyed, Treize explained what he had in mind for the days schedule, work in the morn and education in the afternoon, Most Roman citizens napped during the heat of the day. Schools even let out for a few hours to resume until the dinner hour. But Treize preferred to do his relaxing in the evening, His villa was situated far enough away from the oppressive atmosphere of the city. Nestled in the woods it was much cooler even late in the day. So he tried to think of ways to make the afternoons more beneficial.

After sketching the basics he encouraged everyone to contribute ideas about how they thought they could serve the household. The five had been notably reluctant to speak at first but their new master insisted and soon they had a rousing interchange of ideas. But one voice was notably absent from the discussion.

Zechs calmly…rationally questioned the dozing Dragon; "You aren't really listening are you?" he said mildly tapping one finger on the boy's forearm—

—to which Chang replied 'um-hum'

Treize raised a delicately forked eyebrow, "highly irregular," the noble practically purred elbow resting on the dining couch his chin resting on the back of his hand.

"Hnn…" said WuFei sleepily

"We really should do some thing about that shouldn't we?" Trowa interjected with a quiet smirk as he spread more jam onto his bread.

"Mnnmn…" the dragon mumbled, eyelids silted over obsidian eyes.

"The baths I think." Heero suggested sipping his fruit juice.

"Nzzhn…" Chang sniffed.

"Lets" Treize agreed with an impish grin.

—And the rest was history.

----------------

Section 3 Notes:

Gladiator terms: (review from All Roads) the dominus is the gladiator's owner while the Lanista is a manager/trainer. Scissori and Retarii are two classes of gladiators they are trained in schools called Ludi and classified according to what weapons they use. Two of the most popular places for gladiatorial contest to be held were the Statilii Tauri Amphitheater which was the forerunner of the great coliseum and Circus Maximus. The Circus Maximus was larger than the Amphitheater and featured chariot races as well as gladiatorial combat, animal spectacles parades and other types of performances. This is where the first Olympic Games were held.

Tian: the supreme power reigning over humans and lesser gods according to indigenous Chinese religion. As a god, Tian is an impersonal power likened to nature or fate. Scholars generally agree that Tian was the source of moral law, but they long debated whether He responded to pleas and rewarded and punished human actions or whether events merely followed Tian's order and principles. I expect a justice loving creature like WuFei would have a rather wary relationship with this particular god.

Roman Baths: Roman baths were like modern health clubs. They were the place people went to be social. they consist of 3 main areas #1 the Frigidarium, or cold room for cold water bathing, #2 the Caldarium, or hot room for hot water bathing/sauna and between them is #3 the tepidarium or warm room fr changing and massage. The baths are heated system called a hypocost where by a furnace and hot water boiler that sends water and hot air beneath the floors and radiates heat from the hollow spaces between the walls.

---------------


	4. Laws and Orders

Chapter 4: Laws and Orders

Treize arrived in the hall, and it was as if WuFei were seeing him for the first time. It was not that he was dressed in the formal toga with the purple stripe identifying him as a member of the Order Equester, the man had worn the same formal attire when he purchased the five slaves. Neither was it the air of nobility that clung to him like fine perfume, drawing the young man's attention. It was his gait that immediately troubled the eastern youth.

The nobleman carried an ornate rod of office topped by the wolf that symbolized the leadership and authority of house Kushrenada…but at present he leaned heavily upon it. His steps were stilted as he made his way to the seat his captain had set for him. This was not the mighty warrior WuFei had met on the sparring grounds the day before…this was a man in pain. It was with no small amount of horror that WuFei realized he was certainly to blame.

Zech's keen blue eyes were quick to note the young man's interest and concern with regard to in his master's condition and quietly explained, "He twisted his knee in battle some years ago. It still bothers him at times."

WuFei sucked his breath through grit teeth and growled something that sounded suspiciously like, "Baka."

Then Quatre was distracting WuFei from his thoughts, leading him over to the table where the two of them would be performing their duties for the morning. A scale balance with a set of graduated weights occupied one side of the table, the other was set with a scroll of parchment, a quill and ink for keeping register. Behind the table was a strong box containing coins, 3 large sacks of grain, a grain scoop and a pile of empty cloth bags.

"I will gladly keep the register," the bubbly blonde volunteered taking up the quill. "While we were in the auction house I noticed your tituli listed penmanship and keeping a tally among your skills and I have no doubt you possess a precise hand…but this isn't your native tongue and I have worked as a scribe before."

"I understand your barbaric language, well enough." WuFei scoffed. "Have you any skill in my own I wonder? In the reign of the Han emperor, Yang Xiong insisted there were 5,340 individual characters to our noble language. Before I left home Xu Shen made an accounting of 9,353… I have mastered them all. You have what, 23 letters in Latin, 28 in the Greek. Oh yes, by all means you do the writing." He declared rolling his eyes peevishly.

"I was only trying to be helpful." Quatre bit his quivering lip. He sniffed; sea-blue eyes taking on an even more liquid quality. The taller of the two gladiators cleared his throat drawing WuFei's attention momentarily.

Trowa's posture clearly stated one thing--and his silence was fluent indeed. It warned, "You make him cry, you WILL regret it."

"Nataku be my strength," WuFei sighed in exasperation, "I didn't mean anything by it!" Truthfully he was still angry at himself for fighting an injured opponent and more so for thinking it had been a fair bout. But he knew taking it out on the little blonde wasn't right. He should be trying to think of a way to expunge the blot his honor had already acquired, not add to it by provoking a quarrel with a softhearted child that could hardly defend himself.

"Y-you can make the record if you want to." Quatre offered still self-consciously gazing at the tiled floor.

"It is fine." WuFei insisted, "I don't mind figuring sums and using the scales. Be it rice or grain dry goods are tallied by weight and measure. In my world or yours the principal is the same and regardless of the necessity, I thank you for thinking to ease my burden Quatra-jūn." WuFei said bowing formally at the waist as a sign of his sincerity. He knew the young slave would not recognize the honorific granted to a respected companion but he used it none the less finding Latin not up to the task of properly conveying his sentiment.

WuFei's proclivity for adding foreign words to his everyday vocabulary had earned him many beatings over the years and not just in Rome. His masters in Chang-an had found it equally infuriating. Even so his facility with languages had come in handy during his travels with Ju Shirin. Even now he suspected he understood more words in the language of the Wō tribesman (Japanese) than Heero who had been born on that distant island chain. Upon reflection WuFei suspected much of his former master's ire sprang from the fact that he seldom translated the remarks into the common language they shared. the truth was he hated the necessity of repeating himself for someone who should have been his superior but was not even worthy of being his equal. But WuFei found, rather astonishingly, he held the blond with somewhat higher regard. Translating for him didn't seem at all demeaning. "In your tongue I suppose the closest equivalent would be fidus Quatre" WuFei amended. (Faithful friend Quatre)

"Then I thank you Wu Fei Jun." Quatre said his sunny bright smile emerging once more banishing the storm clouds from his eyes and as far as anyone could tell all was right with the world once more.

----------------------

The masses began accumulating in the outer courtyard. The court began with Treize's sonorous voice reciting the twelve tables for all assembled to hear. Then he sat to listen to what the people had to say. Duo was practically invisible while remaining in plane sight; seated on a large cushion by his master's feet, his amethyst gaze scrutinizing each individual that came before his new master.

Trowa and Heero were quite visible in their roll as guards. Few dared ignore the two gladiators as it was their duty to keep the petitioners in line and in order. By in large the local issues were neither pressing nor sever. Treize was a good governor and his people respected his authority. But some who came before him were not locals. Messengers from the capital and lesser nobles, who had dealings with house Kushrenada, were not so understanding.

In fact quite a few believed that their name, or that of their lord, should give them the right to move ahead of others who had arrived before them. The idea that they must wait to be heard while others argued over issues pertaining to pigs and chickens was anathema to them. One misguided messenger even attempted to bribe Heero. Needless to say, this did not go over at all well. Zechs was forced to step in and the man was lucky the worst thing that happened to him was his being forced to surrender his place and move to the end of the line.

WuFei and Quatre were kept busy as well. As agreed Quatre recorded the judgments Treize extended for each case while WuFei doled out measures of grain or loans to offset various hardships and accepted taxes and fines or other means of restitution for minor infraction. The majority of these involved unruly livestock, children or pets.

Zechs rolled his eyes, grateful his duty was not one that would necessitate he concern himself with such things. The town's people dealt with the beasts, Treize and now Trowa kept the animals in the menagerie…and young Mari would sooner shave her head and live in the wilds than do _anything_ that might somehow reflect badly on her sire. The girl's devotion was almost scary sometimes. The blonde captain shook his head to stop his thoughts from wandering too far afield.

The blonde aide-de-camp almost laughed out loud when Treize jerked in surprise and nearly kicked Duo. The former street rat grinned unashamedly and brushed the man's calf with the tip of his braid once more. Zechs saw the effort it took for the former general to school his features and quash reflex. Another master would have the boy whipped for such forward behavior.

It didn't take Zechs long to recall what Treize already had, that being Duo's uncanny ability to identify a liar. The russet haired tribune had already been somewhat in doubt about his current supplicant's claim. And by reading his long time companions body language it was clear to Zechs that the braided boy's silent confirmation was just what Treize needed to dismiss the man's claim without regret. Duo's discernment proved increasingly useful as the morning wore on. Zechs could tell when the Tribune came to the realization he could to trust the boy's judgment on other issues as well.

Between one case and the next Treize touched Duo's shoulder gently and leaned forward. He didn't care if the people made assumptions about his relationship with the admittedly handsome lad but Zechs, from his position behind Treize's chair, subtly leaned in to hear more clearly what the two had to say.

"Do you see that woman there?" Treize whispered subtly pointing his chin in the direction of the middle aged woman next in line.

The boy nodded and Treize continued. "Her name is Helen. She is a good woman from the town. Her Husband died in a fire 24 months ago. Given your past I doubt you are familiar with Julian law. It ensures that men between the ages of 25 to 60 and women between the ages of 20 to 50 marry and have children. As a widow Helen had a full year to find a second husband but she feels her heart is incapable of replacing her first. A romantic notion I know but it has been known to happen. The Emperor has the right to grant the Ius Liberorum exempt someone from Julian law. And if Helen had conceived four children before her husband's death she would have been seen as having fulfilled her matronly duty to Rome and been given dispensation without question. But she is childless so the debt remains.

The noble shook his head and continued, "I petitioned the emperor some time ago on her behalf and he extended the mourning period to two years but refused to grant her the writ. Now that time too is at an end. She will loose her house and the pension left by her husband leaving her near destitute unless I arrange a marriage I know she does not want. It seems wrong to me but I can not go to the emperor again. As it is, he suspects my previous request was biased. You see I have had the Ius Liberorum since the age of age of fourteen when my father died. Julian law would have prevented me from inheriting because I, for one was underage and now I am almost of the age requiring marriage but I have made it clear I do not intend to take a wife. If not for the writ I would loose half my inheritance to the crown. I have my daughter which lessens the onus a bit, so the emperor hasn't given me too much grief over my decision but, as far as he is concerned, I empathize with Helen's position far too much. What would you do in my place?"

Duo placed a length of his braid between his teeth as he considered his master's dilemma. "As'I'see'it, you'ave' two'choices—" He mumbled around the braid before removing it, "One, According to the others, slaves aren't aloud to marry. If she gives up her citizenship she wouldn't have to re-marry, isn't that right? That is the official line. I don't like it, but there it is. Don't think I didn't notice the ladies living on this here estate ain't married either, you just add one more to the mix. She'd likely be happy. But then again, you got the five of us now and the place'll get crowded fast if you try to take in every stray. Might not be enough food to go 'round and ya never c'n tell one of them onnas Wuffers gripes about might just take a liking to you and decide to force you into marriage writ or no."

Treize looked uncomfortable at that particular prospect and Duo smirked. "Choice two--and I think this will be your best bet, send the good woman to the capital. In District Secundus near the Grange hall is the Well of Maximus. Once there, have her ask around for 'Maxwell's lads.' She can use my name if the beggars are nervous to talk to her. There are still a good many that stake a claim there. I'm sure there would be some willing to come home with her. Marry her to imaginary Father Maxwell on paper, and Wham-o four orphan kids get a home. She will take care of them right?"

Treize smiled. "Yes, she will DEFINITELY take care of them."

"There you go then. Four less beggars in the capital and she's can show the census taker she's fulfilled her motherly duty and the debt to society is paid.--Sounds like a plan. Oh, and have her bring a big basket of those sticky pastries we had for breakfast. Best way to convince a lad of anything is by appeal directly to his stomach."

"I will be sure to mention it." Treize's blue eyes sparkled merrily at the thought. and Zechs had to conclude that the boy certainly had a keen mind attached to that decadent chestnut braid.

When Treize was ready to conclude the morning he painfully got to his feet leaning on the rod of office more than he would like to admit. There was no was he could conceal the fact from his faithful aide-de-camp. Zechs could see how his friend steeled himself and walked with purposeful ease careful not to appear weak before his people.

The large blonde motioned for Heero and Duo to shadow Treize closely as he walked the line of remaining supplicants, calling each villager by name and listening when they told him their grievances or requests and assuring them he would see it handled as soon as he was able. Some few were easily taken care of. He blessed a sleeping child, new born into his village. He congratulated one of his craftsmen on obtaining a deal with a merchant in a neighboring village. He had Quatre record two new marriages and a death on the census record. There was no sign of the troublesome messenger Zechs had sent to the end of the line earlier. The man had likely gone back to his lord in a huff. But that wasn't his problem. The people were dismissed and then it was over.

------------------------

Section 4 Notes:

The Order Equester: (Equestrian Order), was one of the two aristocratic orders of ancient Rome. Ranking below the Senatorial Order It is from the Latin eques, plural equites: literally, "Knights." I divide the noble classes into the Knights of Rome (OZ) and the Fellows of Rome (the Senate)

Tituli: Slaves put up for auction wore a plaque or placards on a string around their necks detailing their origin, abilities, good and bad points. Roman law demanded that dealers disclosed the ethnic origin (natio) of the slaves they were selling. but I doubt the Rome Fellows would have wanted WuFei listed as a naive of the silk lands. he would have been classed as an 'exotic' instead which is the same as saying 'unknown' but the rest would have been as accurate as possible. In addition Slaves newly imported from Roman provinces were put on display with one foot whitened with chalk…strange.

Slaves Duties: It was not unusual for slaves to be in these positions of trust as Quatre and WuFei were. The emperor's own slaves and freedmen dominated the clerical and financial posts and formed the core of imperial administration just as they did in the household administration of any Roman aristocrat.

WuFei's linguistic abilities: As stated before WuFei is Chinese, I did take the time to look up the proper Chinese honorific to address Quatre because I am aware that -sama, -san and –kun, while familiar to many anime fans, are Japanese Romanji. Still WuFei was a well traveled slave in Chang-an with a genuine gift for language. This little caveat lets me continue to use popular Japanese phrases where appropriate (Daijobu!)

The foundation of Roman law was known as the Law of the Twelve Tables (Lex Duodecim Tabularum). They generally took for granted such things as the institutions of the family and various rituals for formal transactions and were in fact similar to a bill of rights defining various responsibilities, procedures, and penalties. The Twelve Tables were literally drawn up on twelve ivory tablets (Livy says bronze) which were posted in the Roman Forum so that all Romans could read and know them. Unfortunately the original tablets, were destroyed when the Gauls burnt Rome in 390 BC. What we have of them today is brief excerpts and quotations from other authors.

One if the more interesting laws states that "If a father sells his son into slavery three times, the son shall be free of his father." Another is that "Men in the army may not wed until training is complete." I expect this was an excuse Zechs used to remain unmarried prior to his becoming a slave of the arena.

Pater familias The term is Latin for "father of the family." The highest ranking male in a Roman household a role Treize holds only by virtue of the Ius Liberorum. According to Roman law Bachelors (Caelibes) were forbidden from receiving legacies (legatum); or inheritances (hereditas). If a person was single when the primary party died, he might take the hereditas or legatum, promising to obeyed the law and marry within one hundred days. If they do not comply with the law, the gift became 'caducum' and passes into the royal treasury. Childless couples inheriting sums receive only ½ of what they are bequeathed the rest likewise goes into the royal treasury.

The 'Grain dole' or 'Corn dole' in ancient Rome was a law by which food or money from government funds was distributed or doled out to the poor and needy; specifically charity. This is the reason Treize is giving grain or coins to the needy members of his village. Where does it come from? Farmers would pay tax in grain which would then be maintained by officials for use in times of famine or distributed to the poor.

For those of you who don't know a Grange Hall was originally a place to store grain. And if you have fresh water (from the well of Maximus) and grain you won't starve. It made sense the homeless children would gravitate to such a place. Irony from the series: Sister Helen was a nun at Maxwell's orphanage, LeGrange point, L2.

---------------------------------------


	5. The Best Laid Plans

Chapter 5 The Best laid Plans

Treize smiled proudly as he watched the last of the petitioners file out. The look of surprise in Helen's eyes when he gifted her with three measures of grain and some coin instead of an arranged marriage was delightful. It also provided opportunity to speak to her privately to make the arrangements to 'enlarge her household' as Duo had suggested. Treize had to admit he plan was brilliant.

Adoption was common among the upper classes there was no stigma attached to it. But Duo's approach was, as best he could tell, unique. Normally, adoption was a political alliance between two families, much like marriage. One family had more children then they could reasonably take care of and another needed an heir but was unable to produce one of their own. It was common sense that the two would come to an arrangement; in most cases the eldest son of the first family in taken in by the second for an agreed upon price. Even the Emperor Augustus had been born to the house of Octavian before being adopted by his great-uncle Julius Caesar becoming heir to the throne. Now past his prime the emperor is trying to engineer the line of succession through the same means as his predecessor. How else could important families strengthen their hold on their assets for the next generation?

Treize had never thought to question why adoption was limited to the upper echelons of society. Of course the plebeians couldn't afford the price usually associated with the forging of political alliances but that didn't have to be the only reason to go into a contract of this type. Was Duo the only one to consider the benefits of extending the right of family to children who had none of their own? The city was practically overrun with urchins beggars and cut-purses everyong complained about it but noone did anything about it. Most were just children, Treize had to believe that given an alternative to crime surely their higher natures would win out. That was, after all the type of thinking that had led him to bring his five into the household.

The heir of house Kushrenada knew what it was like to be alone, being an orphan himself. Other nobles assumed his decision to take on slaves when he had refrained from doing so in the past was just another eccentric social experiment. But the truth was he desperately missed being part of a family. Now Duo had shown him another means of getting what he desired. Not merely freeing his boys as he had planned, but adopting them. Sadly that couldn't happen any time soon. Augustus' law ensured a slave could not be manumitted before the age of 30. Zechs had been lucky to win his freedom from the arena when he did. The other boys had another fifteen years before they could be released from contract. He would, of course, be sure to take good care of them in the meantime he only hoped that once he was able to grant them their freedom they would agree to stay a part of his family.

His gaze drifted around the council chamber. Trowa was standing guard by the money box speaking quietly to Quatre. WuFei and Zechs likewise had their heads together. Treize noticed his aid-de-camp slip the southern dragon some coins and WuFei hurriedly left. There was something afoot there and somehow he could not help but suspect it had something to do with him. Treize was not paranoid by nature but he knew his blond companion well and had been the target of his schemes in the past. Stepping away from Heero and Duo's well-meaning hovering, he confronted the barbarian prince. "What are you up to?" he growled quietly.

"Not my plan this time." Zechs held his palms up in surrender. "Dragon made a wager with me, it is HIS plan. I'm barely even an accessory."

"You gave him money. I saw you." Treize snorted, As far as he was concerned that certainly made Zechs at least partly responsible for what ever WuFei had in mind.

"If you blame me for that, then you'll have to blame Hildi too; that is where he is now, Enlisting her aid in this venture."

"So it's a conspiracy is it? Exactly what does this wager of yours entail? Perhaps I should weigh in as well."

"Oh no Treize, that wouldn't be sporting." Zechs smirked, "You will find out. You DID specify that afternoons were to be a time of education didn't you?"

"I did." Treize said through grit teeth…just what HAD he gotten himself in to?

"Don't fret too much our dragon is nothing if not noble. He's much like you in that respect. My only question is whether he can actually DO what he claims and whether you will let him try."

"Hmm." Treize frowned thoughtfully. It wasn't much of a hint but he would clearly have to wait to learn anything more.

0-0-0-0-0-

Lunch was served on the veranda behind the Villa facing the terraced gardens and whitewashed out-buildings. It was perhaps the least formal meal of the day mostly consisting of leftovers from dinner the night before. There was still plenty for everyone: bread, salad, olives, cheese, fruit, nuts, and cold meat.

Treize had the boys bring their bed rolls down from the slave quarters so they could lounge in the shade of the porch or in the grass for lessons. WuFei was late joining the others but he said nothing as to what had kept him, or what business he had with the female smith.

Heero and Trowa set their weapons down along side their sleeping pads and Quatre and WuFei brought the Lyre and Sword Treize had given them the day before. Duo was still dressed like a Parthan courtesan and was busy exploring the way the silks felt against his skin as he moved…spinning, dancing, turning cartwheels. It was a sight to behold his long auburn tail seemed to have a life of its own as he frolicked and danced in the grass between the manor and the bathhouse.

"He has quite lot of energy hasn't he Father," Mariemaia observed unrolling her sleeping mat…and his own on the grass near the rose arbor.

"He certainly seems to." Treize smiled appraisingly as he joined her on the grass.

"He keeps it in his tucked in his braid, till he's ready to use it." Zechs said matter-of-factly, as he flopped down on the other side of them--stealing one of the pillows the girl had brought.

"You are teasing." She sniffed.

"Am I?" The big blonde plucked a blade of grass and casually proceeded to nibble on the end. "How would you know…your hair is too short, so is your father's for that matter." He announced.

"But not yours,_ Merlord_," Treize ventured with a sly wink. "What say we get some ribbons and plat your mane, Will you dance with such reckless abandon if your crowning glory is bound?"

You've seen me dance, _Tîwaz_, I have done so often upon the sands of the arena and amid the battle fray. I will do so again at need, whether my hair is bound or free." the proud barbarian grinned.

Treize snorted dismissively, he hated to admit the barbarian prince had a point. So he instead he summoned everyone together. "_Nota Bene!_ I think we should begin, yes?" [Latin: take notice, a call to attention]

---------------------

The boys gathered around listening intently to what their new master had to say. Duo even halted his romping and flopped down cross-legged on the grass leaning his elbows on his knees, a picture of chaste attentiveness.

"I think it best if we divide into two groups of study today." The noble explained, "Quatre, I would like you to help my daughter with her lessons and teach Heero, Trowa and Duo something of reading and writing. WuFei, you will be showing Zechs and myself some of those warm-up exercises you did before our fight yesterday."

"No." WuFei said in a tone that left no room for doubt.

"What?' Treize asked surprised. After their sparring match the eastern youth seemed enthusiastic, not to mention eager, at the prospect of teaching them some of the traditions and methods his culture held dear. What could have happened to change the Boy's attitude so?' He wondered 'Surely this couldn't stem from the fact that he hadn't stopped the others from tossing the sleepy dragon in the baths this morning. The boy was proud it was true but surely he understood that had been a simple jest meant in fun.'

"The foundation for all our martial arts is _Qigong_ the harmony of the body with the mind," The dark-eyed youth explained. "I will instruct Zechs on the basic forms and principals…Hiiro and Trowa may learn them also if they wish. I know how eager Duo is to learn how to read so I will leave his instruction in Quatre's capable hands though I expect Mistress Mari will be a help with that task as well. You…master, I will not teach. You may observe if you wish but, you may not participate in the lessons today."

"But we talked about this." Treize said, hurt blossoming in his chest. The real question he wanted to ask was 'What have I done?'

"I was not informed of certain pertinent pieces of information with regard to the situation." WuFei frowned expressively and crossed his arms across his chest. "If you wish to place me in the position of _Xiānshēng_ then you will do well to heed my words. [Chinese term similar to the Japanese 'Sensei'] WuFei youth sounded so strong, so self assured it was difficult to remember he was a slave. The dark haired youth beckoned and the three former arena fighters rose as one and took places before him to begin their instruction.

Falling back into the roll of noble and _Pater familias_ Treize exclaimed, "Non placet!" [Latin: it does not please me!] He was the master here after all. WuFei would do well to remember that. He moved to join Heero, Trowa and Zechs.

"_Xiang ye bie xiang_!" WuFei commanded in his native tongue, obsidian eyes blazing [Chinese: Don't even think about it!] If you give me the authority to teach, you must listen if you expect to learn."

Treize did not understand the words but the dragon's tone stilled him where he knelt. "But yesterday you said I could!" the noble lord said beseechingly unable to conceal the disappointment in his voice--Reminding all assembled that he wasn't all that much elder than they were.

WuFei stepped forward and placed both hands on Treize's shoulders and smiled down at the man. "_Réngōng_ Treize." [Chinese familiar honorific: My kind lord] "You are my master and I respect you in all things but you freely admit there are things my people know that you do not, If it were not so there would be no need for me to teach you anything. Listen to me when I say this. You are proud and try to hide your pain, I understand better than you can know. But your knee will not hold up under the stress of the forms. I can…and will take the pain away and help the injury done so long ago to finally heal, if you trust me to do so. But right now the Chi within you is badly unbalanced. Right now, were you to do as you wish it will only hurt you more; Soon that may not be the case."

"I don't understand." Clear blue eyes blinked. He'd lived with the pain so long he had learned for the most part to ignore it. Sure his knee had bothered him a bit more this morning than normal, but he had rested it and now it was as strong as it ever was…certainly as strong as it had been yesterday when they had sparred.

"I know you don't…that is why I must teach you." There was a teasing twist to WuFei's smile and he daringly ran his fingers through the elder man's red-gold hair. Then he gently pushed him back into a sitting position and off his tortured knee; before turning to focus his attention on directing his three approved pupils.

WuFei's calm commanding voice instructed them on the basics of _Wuji_. It was imperative to attain the correct stance, perpendicular to the force of gravity. He watched as the former gladiators learned to relax and let go of all excess tension as they moved through the basic forms of the five elements and eight postures:

Ward Off, Advance, Retreat, Look left, Gaze Right, Center Balance

Roll Back, Press, Push, Pull, Split, Elbow Strike, Shoulder Strike.

He wasn't sure if they understood how this process would facilitate and strengthen the flow of blood and Chi throughout the body but he knew Treize was listening to his explanation and that should help him later…

WuFei's mind drifted back to his childhood in the White dragon temple high in the _Wǔ Dāng _Mountains where he had first been introduced to the forms he had since mastered. The knowledge was the one constant in his life after Master Ron decided to take him the capital of Chang'an and then across much of _Tan Xia _and into this strange foreign land. (the Empire of everything under heaven) He learned much during his life as a temple slave, but the most important by far, was that which he sought to teach Treize now. There are times when watching and listening can be just as beneficial as doing, if not more so.

--------------------------------------

Section 5 Notes:

Adoption in the imperial family: I'm telling you this now because it may clear up things later later. Augustus adopts his stepson Tiberius in 4 AD. Then destroys Tiberius's marriage to his first love, Agrippina and forces him to marry Julia the elder, (the emperors daughter from a previous marriage) In addition Tiberius was forced to adopt his nephew, the Emperor's grandson, Germanous and name him heir. (Germanous is a great general and friend of Treize, Julia is a friend of Dorothy.)

Nicknames: From what I have read in roman times everyone had multiple names that they would use in various circumstances and various stages in life it makes things complicated. However, In All Roads it was established that Zechs' given name is in his native tongue (Ango-Saxon) is 'Seax MereKāser' which means "Sword of the Sea King." Popularly romanized it becomes 'Zechs Marquis' or more infrequently 'Marcus Zechs'. Treize teasingly translates "Sea king" as "Merlord" or 'm'lord' (Millard anyone?).

Zechs returns the favor nicknaming Treize 'Tîwaz' As he is Trejanus after the roman god, Tîwaz, was one of the oldest Germanic gods, the sky father, known for his courage and willingness make personal sacrifices to ensure peace. (Tuesday is named after him.) An ancient poem also connects TÎw with "a guiding star that keeps faith with princes, always on course through the mists of night." Both seemed fitting parallels.

Qigong: Forerunner of Tai Chi believed to have been conceived by a Taoist priest, Chang San Feng, who studied martial art in a Shaolin temple. One day he was inspired by a fight he witnessed between a magpie (or white crane) and a cobra and began thinking about fighting in a new way. Later he studied under a man known as "the Fire Dragon Hermit" at the Wu Dang temple to refine his theories. From it grew the Wu Dang style of Martial Arts; Including Taijiquan and Qigong, both of which I believe I mentioned in "All Roads". I found this information on the internet. I am not a practitioner of any of it, so if I have it wrong, please don't hesitate to let me know and I will fix it as best I can.

The mountains of Wudang Shān in the Hubei province of China were known for the many temples and monasteries. They became Taoist academic centers for the research, teaching and practice of meditation, martial arts, traditional medicine, acupuncture, agriculture practices and related arts. In the Eastern Han Dynasty (25-220AD), the Mountain attracted the Emperor's attention. In the Tang dynasty (618-907) the famous "Five dragon temple" was built there. Seemed a good birth place for out dragon… and probably where the 'Wu' in WuFei came from.

----------------------------------------


	6. Lessoning

Chapter Six: Lessoning

Quatre was puzzled to say the least. He had been a slave much of his life. He had belonged to nobles of every stripe, good and bad, prosperous and not so… local and foreign. He thought he had experienced all a slaves life had to offer. Now though, the little blonde found himself checking to see whether Apollo's fiery chariot had not swerved in its path across the sky causing the sun to set in the east turning the rest of the natural laws topsy-turvy.

The first week or so in a new household was always the most difficult for a slave. The masters were usually at their harshest so they could quickly break their new thralls, who would be quick to learn the new rules of the house. The masters too could squash any bad habits the slave may have picked up from their previous owners. Treize it seemed did not subscribe to this philosophy, that in itself confused Quatre, but this was a situation he's never imagined.

Most new slaves practically walked on eggshells till they grew into their new position, it was an ingrained survival instinct. It was common sense…somehow this logic escaped WuFei. Quatre could not comprehend how the eastern youth could presume to dictate what his master could and could not do. And never would Quatre imagine there would be a master that would comply to such outrageous behavior, Especially when it was clearly contrary to his wishes. Treize was _Dominus_ as well as _Pater familias,_ his word was law, he held the power of life and death over all in his household, why had he allowed his authority compromised by a foreign slave?

Treize was not a weak man, Eccentric perhaps, but not weak. Still he said nothing to reassert his dominion over them; his deep sigh was eloquent however. The man was hurting. Quatre had learned to be especially attentive to such things, as it was generally the best way a slave could avert trouble. The master's posture, expression and tone of voice declared it like a clarion. Even were it not for the tightness Quatre felt resonating in his chest the young slave knew to be wary of his lord's state of mind.

The young blonde's natural instinct was to soothe the man. But Treize had given him an order. He was not like WuFei to disregard such things. He had a duty to help Marie with her lessons and teach Heero, Duo and Trowa letters and numbers. As much as he hated the thought, trying to mitigate his master's distress was secondary.

He expected Zechs would have something to say about WuFei's brashness; he WAS in charge of disciplining the slaves after all. And everything he had ever experienced proclaimed that the dark eyed eastern scholar should shortly become well acquainted with the man's whip. But, the master's second said nothing; it was almost like he expected the scene that had just played out there on the lawn.

Zechs stood and stretched, his limber form positioned where he could get the most advantage from WuFei's Instruction. Wordlessly Heero and Trowa rose from their sleeping pads and joined him. Zechs was their _lanista_ (trainer) and since he had not countermanded WuFei's invitation to join the lesson, they did so, rather than engage in academic study with Duo, Marie and himself. Quatre found himself rubbing his chest once more. He turned his attention to his two _willing_ students and tried to ignore all else.

"Miss Marie, how do you think we should go about teaching Duo numbers? Do you have any ideas?" Quatre asked quietly.

The girl frowned slightly and bit the corner of her lip in thought for an instant then rushed off to the table where the remains of the luncheon had yet to be cleared off. In a flash she was back clutching a bowl of candied fruit. "Grandfather says it is best to speak to a dog in the language of the dog…not that I think you are a hound Duo. But you like sweets, same as I do. If you are going to count, counting a thing you like will hold your attention more than counting flowers or rocks or sticks anything, and money is not so straight forward to tally."

The braided boy grinned, "I'm not so bad with coin. Most of the beggars I ran with would check the boards listing the exchange rate between _Nummii_ (the coin of the day) and silver_ Denari Communes_ (imperia standard) So they'd know what they took in begging was worth. And we'd take jobs when we could find um. Did you know you can earn 2 _Denarii_ making a sheet of bricks? (8 bricks to a sheet) Sometimes the brick maker would give me 1 for making sure nothing walked on them as they were drying in the sun, not all brick makers are that contentious. One roof, where I used to nap, had cat and dog paw prints dried right into the tiles!

"Solo and I used to collect Desert grapes too. Once we managed to gather a whole _Libra._ (Roman measure, just under a pound or 326 grams) We took 'um to a vender and he gave us a half _Denarii._ A hair cut costs two Denarii_--_not that I'd ever want one, but I've had people volunteer to pay...If you ask me their just jealous. Women want my hair, it is soft like silk. You know, I've heard it said that one _Libra_ of fine silk cost as much as a dozen slaves, and slaves are lots and lots of coin, Didn't Trowa say gladiators are sometimes bought in gold rather than silver? I don't know what gold is worth, oodles I'd bet."

Duo ran a hand down the silk covering his thigh then hugged himself. "Quat, Are you SURE this is common wear for high class slaves? Every peasant I know spends half of what they earn just to buy food. That is why the grain dole is so important. Watching Cat and Fei-fei this morning taking the tax and tolls was enlightening. Solo taught me numbers 1 to 5." the boy counted on his fingers to prove it and Quatre used a stick to scratch the symbols. I, II, III, IV, and V in the dirt as Duo named counted. "But what comes after five?"

The young blond was trying to follow the braided boy's logic but he kept changing topics so fast Quatre was waiting for him to take a breath before he answer his questions. Marie didn't wait. She just jumped right in, "Six is next. It is written the reverse of Four." IV--VI she scratched into the dirt then counted out six candied fruits onto the blanket she was sitting on and showed him all the ways you could group them to equal six.

Food of course got the braided boy's attention just as she had hoped it would and she continued the lesson. Marie was doing well and Duo's enthusiasm was contagious. Duo liked subtraction best of course as that meant he got snatch one of the fruits every so often.

Quatre had clearly lost control of the situation--just as Treize had--and the blonde thought perhaps it was best if he follow his master's example and just sit back and watch how things play out…and speaking of playing—Quatre reached for his lyre and began to softly pick out a tune.

His azure eyes scanned the lawn missing nothing. There was no denying WuFei's skill and grace. His compact form flowed from one shape to the next. With music to act as counter point it seemed all the more like an exotic dance, methodical and sinuous.

Trowa was easily the most limber of the three students. His lanky form came closest to mirroring what the eastern slave was doing, but Heero and Zechs were far from awkward. Quatre's music set the perfect counterpoint to their fluid motions. Painting pictures in the mind of wind swept dunes, snow kissed mountains, crystal streams and sunsets.

It was something of a surprise when WuFei finally called a halt to the exercise. He bowed to his students then turned to Treize in a matter of fact tone he announced, "It is time, come with me." he held out a hand to help his surprised master to his feet then escorted him into the bath house, Zechs followed leaving the others equally confused.

Seeing the arena fighters were at loose ends at present, Quatre reminded, "Trowa, Heero…Master Treize wanted you to learn something of letters this afternoon as well."

"Hn," Heero mumbled and Trowa said nothing as he walked over to curl up, leaning on one elbow, next to Quatre. Heero chose to kneel on the pad next to Duo.

"Let's begin with letters shall we?" Quatre instructed, seeing how Marie and Duo had already covered the numbers VI, VII, VIII, IX and X. 'A' is first," he scratched the symbol in the dirt. "It begins words like _Ales_ (bird) and _Arboris_ (tree) can you think of any other words that start with the 'A' sound?"

"Arista" (an ear of corn) Marie volunteered.

"Appelo" (name) Trowa added quietly.

"Avernus" (belonging to the underworld) Duo grinned mischievously.

"Arma." (Weapons/arms) Heero said tonelessly.

"Amicus" (friend) Quatre added his own suggestion before moving on. "Very good," he praised. Next is 'B' B is like the word _Bovis_ (cow)

"Beneficium" (a privilege or right). Marie chirped, ice blue eyes shining. It was clear that she was enjoying this game even if it was beneath her current level of education.

"Blanditia: Something I'm good at exercising: (charm) Duo announced.

"Brevitas, Something you are not." (brevity, shortness in speech) Trowa quipped quietly.

Quatre looked surprised "I thought Trowa would say _bestia_ for B" (animal/beast)

Marie laughed, "I expected you to say '_Beneficium_' Quatre." (kindness)

"_Bellum_." (warlike) Heero murmured.

"All right, lets go on to C now…Like _Canis_ (dog)

"_Callidatas_" (cunning) Trowa began.

"_Comitis_" (companion) Marie added swiftly.

"_Cibus!"_ (Diner) Duo practically crowed

"_Caedo"_ (to kill) Heero finished quietly

Quatre frowned a bit at the last trying to read an expression on Heero's stony face. He seemed to be the only one that wasn't enjoying himself; not that it was easy to tell with him. But Quatre sensed something was going on behind those cobalt blue eyes. "D is next, Like _Doceō."_ (teach) Quatre said.

"Dominus." (master) Trowa began this time.

"Deliber_ō_" (to consider, deliberate) Marie said with a superior aire.

"_Duo Dulsis_! (two sweets) the braided boy made a play on his name batting his long lashes and stealing the last two candied fruits from the bowl before grinning wildly.

"_Dimicō," (fight) Heero frowned._

"Heero try to think of something besides battle it is not_ Difficilis_." (difficult) Quatre encouraged using another 'D' word to lighten the rebuke.

The gladiators frown deepened. "_Debilitō_ (weaken) _dēdecus_ (disgrace) I'm not like you…my _disciplina _(training discipline) was limiting. _Discēndo!_ (go away, leave, or to split something open) "Enough of this!" Heero lurched to his feet and walked swiftly away toward the out-buildings. He did not head toward the door to the bathhouse where the others were but to the opposite end and was soon lost from sight behind it.

"I-I don't understand." Quatre whispered meekly."

"I do…I'll talk to him. Do you think you can gather some pinecones? Stone pine is best but I'd like to have at least a dozen on hand, just in case." Trowa said cryptically as he rose to his feet and followed after other gladiator youth.

Section Six Notes:

Duo's account of bricks decorated with paw prints were actually inspired by CBM's (ceramic building materials) I saw working on a roman archaeological dig in Silchester England. I was attending the University Reading through a study abroad program and got to help uncover Insula IX of the roman town of Calleva Atrebatum. ' I learned much during my stint as a 'Dirt Pixy' and likely wouldn't have written in this particular setting were it otherwise; Many thanks to Amanda Clarke for the opportunity. You rock!

This is a short notes section Lots of Latin in this section and mostly everything else is explained. The next chapters note section will make up for it and then some. I hope you don't find it boring. I haven't had the opportunity to take Latin formally myself and I know some of you have, so if I got it wrong, let me know. I needed a bit of a lull before jumping into the next chapters so there is not much to note here. Duo's inferences, on the cost of living in Roman times, are accurate. If you have any questions on things in this chapter you would like notes on PM me and I will gladly append it. But I won't tell you what the pinecones are for, you'll find out in a few chapters.


	7. Penetrating Discussion

A long chapter I know, with lots of notes at the end  
But I couldn't bear to break it up. I Hope you don't get lost.

Chapter Seven: Penetrating Discussion

Treize wasn't sure just how he had gotten himself into this. He could understand how Heero, Trowa and Zechs could be swayed by WuFei's forceful attitude. They had been trained for the arena after all. Obedience had been drilled into them and that wasn't something easily overcome. It had been almost two years since Zechs won his freedom but still, Treize knew that if he pitched his voice a certain way the barbarian prince would snap too and obey unquestioningly. He could accept that WuFei's confidence and commanding presence may have unknowingly caused the same effect in the other arena fighters as well.

But that did not explain why Treize himself was sitting, even now, on one of the massage beds in the bath house -- dressed in nothing but a brief Egyptian wrap --contemplating a tray of very sharp looking implements. 'How had the eastern slave convinced him to trust him THIS implicitly?' Treize mused. 'He was a noble after all. His oratory skills were far from insignificant. He was no pushover when it came to rhetoric. True he admired the dark eyed youth. True he was hungry to learn all he could about the culture of the silk people. But he had only met the scholarly slave a day ago. Funny, it seemed far longer than that.'

WuFei stood arms crossed, watching him intently. Treize could feel the weight of that unflinching gaze. "Give me your wrist." the youth ordered.

Treize frowned but held it out. Long slim fingers ghosted across his pale skin, touching here and there. In six different places the young man tested the steady rhythm of his pulse. Then WuFei studied Treize's face and the surface of his ears. Next he said "Open your mouth."

The noble's delicately forked eyebrow rose. "What do you expect to find?" he wanted to know.

"I am checking the condition of your tongue." WuFei explained.

"But you _said_ you could fix my knee." Treize reminded.

"And I will. Remember when I was explaining how chi moves throughout the body and stimulates good health and balance? Well your problem is the chi is getting stuck in various places and can't move freely. That is what is causing you pain. Zechs told me you were injured in a fall from a horse. Your knee never healed properly and I can see it hurts you when you overextend yourself. Tell me how persistent is the pain?

"It is usually stiff in the mornings, and damp bothers it too." he admitted with a sigh. "Sally usually binds it when it gets bad. In the beginning the legions healers used leaches to relive the internal pressure and reduce the swelling. Sally would do the same if I asked. But it didn't seem to help much and I don't like to bother her with anything this minor."

"This is NOT minor. This is your body screaming that it needs care." WuFei scowled. "Now let me observe your tongue!"

Treize obeyed reluctantly, feeling like an impertinent youth. Zechs chuckled at the sight.

WuFei glared at the large blonde chidingly. "Studying the color, texture, and shape of the tongue tells me the locus of the problem is in the areas we call the _Yanglingquan, Weizhong and Shenshu_. Roll over, and lay on your stomach." WuFei directed then placed some small greenish yellow flowers in the brazier and soon the air was heavy with the fragrance. "I recognized these growing in the garden. My people call it _mogusa_ or _moxia._ We normally process it a bit for medicinal purposes but there wasn't time."

Treize recognized the flowers too, and the fact immediately put him more at ease. "_Artemisa vulgaris_, apparently both out cultures are familiar with its curative powers. I know Sally harvests the leaves and drys them for making a tincture for stomach upset or grinds the flowers to mix with oils for massage."

WuFei snorted. "I didn't think to ask if she had any already dried…no matter, this will work just as well for my purpose. I am ready now. May I continue with your treatment?"

The noble took a deep breath and nodded his assent. That was Zechs cue as well. He drew the fine Taijiquan saber Treize gifted to WuFei with after their sparring match and gently rested the razor sharp blade on the Asian's left shoulder. This was part of their bargain.

* * *

Zechs had made it quite clear he would not let ANYONE near his commander with sharp objects unless he knew he was doing everything he could, to see his friend was protected from harm. The blonde felt even more responsible since the collection of needles been forged from the coins -- copper, brass, silver, and gold, he had he lent to the slave.

WuFei had been careful to let both he and Treize examine the nine different types of needle. The arrowhead needle was for superficial pricking, the round needle for massaging, the blunt needle for knocking or pressing and the tiny thread-like filiform needle for delicate adjustments would be most necessary. He didn't expect to need the sharp round needle for rapid pricking, the long needle thick muscles or the large needle for puncturing painful joints, were for more serious cases. And he knew he would not need the three edged needle for puncturing a vein, or the sword-like needle for draining abscesses. Still he patiently explained each and every one.

Zechs understood that the young man was only trying to set their minds at ease but he still didn't like the idea. Sally never did ANYTHING like this. Then again the woman hadn't been able to give Treize any real relief either. Zechs whispered a few silent words to Eir, goddess of healing in his northern home land then thought to enlist the aid of her roman counterparts Angita and Asclepius as well, it couldn't hurt.

He knew Treize didn't think much of either pantheon. He honored his ancestors and the Emperor as any good Roman ought. But he had often voiced his monumental distrust of petty deities moving men about as pieces on a game board. Zechs believed his friend was secretly questing after something 'more' and believed that was what fueled his study of many diverse cultures. So far the man hadn't found the answers he was looking for. The blonde prince didn't fault Treize for his lack of faith, but that didn't stop HIM from petitioning the unseen realms on his friend's behalf as often as he could. Seeing WuFei hold the first needle over the smoking brazier to warm only made him redouble his efforts.

* * *

"Just how old are you anyway?" Treize asked trying to keep his mind off what was about to happen.

"My people do not recon time as yours do so." WuFei scoffed.

"Which means?" The noble asked.

"One would think it would be easy to figure one's age logically. Judging by appearance I Assume I am somewhat younger than you, perhaps more of an age with the other four. But my people are more compact than yours. Few grow to be quite as tall and none I have seen get as large as Zechs. So estimates may be deceptive in this case.

"You cannot imagine how different your world is from my own." WuFei continued. "On nearly every document Quatre filed this morning he inscribed 'Upon this XXIII day of the sacred month of Juno AUC DCCLXIV.' Is that not so? You judge the passage of time_ Annu Urbis Conditae_ and the record states it has been seven hundred and sixty-four of your years since the founding of Rome. Since coming here I have also learned dates can be reckoned Anno Regini making this the forty-fifth year of Caesar Augustus' reign."

Both Treize and Zechs nodded and WuFei continued. My people record time not by the measure of man but as the gods would by observing the nature of the world around us. I know I was born in the year of the earth tiger, just as the sun was beginning its ascent to the realm of the Jade emperor. The first flowers were blooming on the mountains of my homeland which means both my second and tertiary signs are the dragon of fire. How old do you think that makes me?

Both men gaped in incomprehension at the alien concepts. WuFei smiled. The conversation seemed to distract both men from what he was doing so he continued. "Our astronomical observations are exacting. Emperor Han-Wu established the quarter calendar determining that Years be measured against a sexagenary solar cycle. This means there are 365 and 385/1539 days in a year. Months fall according to the lunar cycle being 29 and 43/81 days in length. In addition each period is assigned a heavenly element: wood, fire, earth or metal and falls into one of 12 earthly branches which have animal designations; Rat, Ox, Tiger, Rabbit, Dragon, Snake, Hoarse, Goat, Monkey, Chicken, Hound and Boar.

.

Treize's normally agile mind was busy trying to puzzle out how such a complicated system could possibly work. "I understand what you are saying about how measuring time by the ruler's whim can be problematic. At one time it was accepted there were ten months in a year. Beginning in the spring with Martius then progressing with Aprilis, Maius, Iunius, Quintilis, Sextilis, September, October, November before ending in the winter with December.

"Then during the reign of Numa Pompilius it was decided that, since 10 is an unlucky number, there should be twelve months in the year. He was also the one responsible for tacking Ianuarius and Februarius at the end of the year. Then in the time of my grandfather Julius Caesar made his own changes and our own Augustus completed the changes early in his reign, renaming Quintilis and Sextilis, July and August respectively. The new calendar also and made Ianuarius, the month of my birth, the first month of the year. If I recall correctly reasoning was that that is when newly elected officials take their place in the senate and it would make record keeping simpler. Now that I think about it, the whole thing does seem rather arbitrary. How do your people decide the order of the calendar?"

Treize was so occupied he did not even flinch when the needle penetrated the skin of his lower back near the spine. WuFei twisted carefully opening the blockage so the chi could flow freely. If all went well this should cure the man's low back pain and knee weakness. WuFei continued, taking in his master's question he resumed his monologue. His rounded tones were those of a skilled storyteller but they did not loose the slight lilt indicative of his distant lands.

"It is said that in the beginning of time the Jade Emperor sent out a call to all the animals in the world to decide who would best exemplify the future that was to follow. The sequence would be determined by a race. The Rat – the first in the sequence of twelve – was said to have won by tricking the Ox into carrying him across the water, then jumping off the Ox's head to sprint ahead and win the race and a place of honor as the first in line in the zodiac. The ox followed after. The cat had also crossed the river on the ox's back but in mid-stream the rat pushed him off and he was swept away.

"The dragon had not originally thought to participate in the race as he is generally to busy for such trivial matters but he was drawn from the clouds by the cats cries. He rescued the cat and went straight away to have an audience with the jade emperor to explain what had happened. His timely arrival inadvertently earned him the fifth place, as did his generous rescue of the cat--who surely would have drowned if he had not intervened. The poor cat was so affected by his ordeal he arrived last of all the animals and lost his place in the calendar as a result. You understand now why cats not over fond of water and the animosity they hold for rats continues to this day."

"That is some story." Zechs smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "But I don't see why your birthing day has to be so complicated. My father told me I was born sometime between the feast of Samhain which celebrates the end of the harvest and the Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year. I know I've survived 18 winters since that first one, making me nearing 19 when the leaves turn--It is that simple."

"The varying Animal signs and elements influence personality. Individuals born in a given year often share the traits of their patron animal. The month, day and even hour a person was born influence their character and how they interact with others. I can not say if such things pertain to you, since your empire is so far from my own, but judging by personalities I would say Treize here was born in the year of the Dragon." WuFei could feel the muscles of the man's back relaxing already. He ran his hands along the spine pressing firmly with his thumbs when he felt a misalignment.

"Those born under that sign often have pain in early life and joy later on." That statement seemed to strike a chord with the elder man so he continued. "Dragons are magnanimous, stately, vigorous, strong, self-assured, proud, and noble. In interacting with others they tend to be direct, dignified, zealous, fiery, passionate, decisive, pioneering, ambitious, generous, loyal and occasionally arrogant. Others occasionally judge them to be imperious, demanding, eccentric, self-important, dogmatic, over-bearing, impetuous or brash." WuFei mentally ticked off each attribute as he recited them. Truthfully, he hadn't really been paying too much attention to what he was saying. It was just meant as distraction after all.

When he had done all he could for Treize's back he moved on to massage his legs, ankles and feet. Returning to take the next needle out of the brazier and let it cool some. The point carefully penetrated the back of Treize's knee and again the ginger hared noble did not flinch. He was two busy grappling with the fact that it seemed his ebony-haired slave had lavished him with praise and insulted him in the same breath. Zechs had been distracted too, trying to conceal a snort of laughter at the slave's rather astute assessment. WuFei left the tiny barb to do its work and continued on gently massaging his master's supple flesh.

He silently paid homage to the immortal Quan Yin as he focused on getting the next needle into the exact point that would that would relieve hip impairments, muscular atrophy, leg pain and immobility. He tried to visualize the knot of _Chi_ beneath the surface and the slim needle piercing to alleviate the build up of pressure.

"What about me?" Zechs asked tapping the eastern youth lightly on the shoulder with the flat of his blade. "What do you think my animal could be?" He asked. The blonde was so focused on WuFei's answer he let the blade fall off the slave's shoulder and leaned against the side of the massage table.

"My first instinct would be hound: they are independent and unafraid to move to a rhythm of their own making. They are honest, intelligent, straightforward, and loyal. They have a strong sense of justice and fair play. Others see them as attractive, amiable, unpretentious, sociable, and open-minded. Most are idealistic, moralistic, practical, and affectionate. Of course hounds can also be moody, cynical, stubborn, and quarrelsome with tendency to worry."

Treize scoffed, "So I'm arrogant and you are moody."

"And handsome. Don't forget handsome…unpretentious and attractive he said. And you are not so bad either, passionate and dignified." Zechs added with a smirk.

"Oh yes that is very unpretentious M'lord," Treize deadpanned, and then turned his attention once more to WuFei. "What about tigers?" he asked

"Tigers work well with both dragons and dogs so that shouldn't be a problem. But they are powerful which makes them bit rebellious at times," WuFei said "They are also noted for their passion, daring, and impulsiveness. They can have a quick temper and the occasional bout of recklessness. In general they are vigorous and sincere stimulating those around them. Tigers are usually affectionate and generous but can also be obstinate and selfish at times." He mused.

Honestly WuFei had never spent such a long time reflecting on the beliefs of his people. Such things were just taken for granted but explaining these things to outsiders somehow solidified it in his mind. Both the freedom to talk about his home…as well as their undisguised interest in it somehow made him feel a bit less homesick.

WuFei hummed to himself in thought as he flicked the skin at the outside side of Treize's knee with his finger nail a few times before placing the needle. This pinprick should improve circulation and relieve stress to muscles and tendons. He twisted the tip carefully before leaving it to set.

"I feel that." Treize said and immediately Zechs was glaring and the naked blade was back resting on WuFei's shoulder.

"What does it feel like? Does it hurt?" WuFei asked unperturbed by the blonde's quick action. Their arrangement had been straightforward after all. If he hurt his master he would loose his head. It was that simple. It was justice. He accepted it.

"No. put the sword away Zechs. At this point I am more concerned about you ruining my clothes with his blood than him harming me. The blonde's mouth firmed into a stubborn line and he looked as if he were about to protest but Treize assured him, "There was a pinch now it tingles a bit. Before I only felt the warmth of the metal touching my skin but this time--it is hard to explain what I feel, beyond that but it isn't pain." Treize said thoughtfully."

"Then we will leave it so it can do the most good. You should lay still for a bit. Close your eyes. Do you want me to fetch Quatre to play for you?"

"No, tell me more of your home land Chang WuFei." The noble sighed softly.

"I said I was from Chang'an that is the capital. My master served as an ambassador for the Emperor. We traveled extensively even before we traced the steps of Zhang Qian in our journey to the west. But I was born in the mountains of the Hubei province. It is beautiful though the words in this language pale by comparison.

Treize's blue eyes slid closed as the listened to the lyrical quality in the passionate tiger's voice. His quick mind conjured vivid images of the strange and wondrous landscape so very far away.

"Mine is a land of thousand lakes glittering like diamonds. People travel from the distant places in the empire to marvel at the three gorges carved out of the earth by the river dragons' might. The red dragon is the Yangtze. It is wild and free like the river named for it that floods and unpredictable times decimating villages during the rainy season.

"The Daning is a green dragon, more placid in temperament; it rests at the base of sheer cliffs that stretch up to the towering peaks of my mountain, the Wu Dang. It is a spectacle of unprecedented wonder, green, gray and blue bleeding together in perfect harmony clothed in mist. Such a sight would bring tears of joy even to the unblinking eyes of the immortal Jade Emperor." WuFei sighed.

"That is it." the oriental slave said finally, Treize hadn't even noticed when the tiny needles were removed. "Did I hurt you?"

The noble sat up then gingerly rose to his feet. After flexing his knee expectantly he grinned. "Not only did you not hurt me, it DOESN't hurt. I hadn't realized how long it has been since my knee didn't pain the release is almost euphoric." Treize licked his lips.

"Then we have success." WuFei smiled, "I may have to do this again in three to four weeks but you should be fine in the mean time. Still take it easy. There is nothing I can do to cure an onna's lectures and for anything major I expect you will still want that Po woman to see to you. I spoke to her at length this morning to see what she had done to treat you and the experience has led me to conclude I would not want to be on her bad side."

"Thank you." Treize said momentarily daring to balance on his 'bad' leg. _"Non Dolet"_ he whispered still slightly in awe of the fact. (it dosen't hurt)

"Thank you for trusting me." WuFei bowed to him and smiled.

"I guess you can have the sword back now." Zechs sighed in mock reluctance at the prospect of giving up the fine blade. It wasn't really his style but he knew how much the dark eyed boy prized it. He only hoped the other boys hadn't gotten into trouble while they had been occupied.

Section Seven Notes:

I have only recently tried **acupuncture** (after I wrote this chapter then had to go back and change some things) the research was fascinating and I found the treatment for the most part effective. I tried to incorporate as much information as seemed appropriate into the story. **Traditional Chinese diagnostics** are based on overall observation of human symptoms rather than "micro" level laboratory tests. There are four types of TCM diagnostic methods: observe (望 wàng), hear and smell (聞 wén), ask about background (問 wèn) and touching (切 qiè). The pulse-reading component of the touching examination is so important that Chinese patients may refer to going to the doctor as "Going to have my pulse felt" During a treatment at an Oriental Clinic, one may experience other forms of treatment besides acupuncture and herbal medicine. Moxibustion is also a common practice wherein a small amount of the herb mugwort (Roman would be Artemisa vulgaris) is burnt with the belief that it could add new energy to the body the warmth stimulating other acupuncture points in the areas. Suppliers usually age the mugwort and grind it up to a fluff; called mogusa or moxia.

**Mugwart** is A tall-growing shrubby plant, with angular stems, which are and often purplish, growing 3 feet or more in height. The leaves are smooth and dark green above and covered with a cottony down beneath. Blooming is from July to October. Used for centuries as an alternative medicine, it is antibacterial, anti-inflammatory, antiseptic, antispasmodic, haemostatic, purgative, stimulant, and used for cleansing toxins from the blood the list goes on.

**Chinese Astrology. T**here are many different stories explaining how the animals were chosen including the one WuFei tells. As for who was born when and what it means…Yeah, I wracked my brain for this one and still got it wrong but the attempt was fun. It has no bearing on the story and may actually contradict ages mentioned in All roads I'm not sure

I figured that if If 2008 was the year of the rat than 8 AD should have also been a year of the rat as well but I neglected to figure that there are 12 animals not 10 (thank you singergirl :) )

I figured that AD 12 would have been a Yang-Water-Dragon year (instead of monkey). If my figures had been correct and accepting Treize was 24 as stated in the series he would also have been born in the year of the dragon but it would have been a Yin-Earth-Dragon. I'm a bit vague of how the elements work but in the year zero Treize would have been 12, Zech would have been 8, and the boys would have been 3/2 old. Disregarding the fact that western calendars go from 0 to 1BC, Quatre should have been born in a year ending in 9, the other pilots would have been born in a year ending in 8, Zech would have been born in a year ending in 5, and Treize born in a year ending in 9. Using this information in a nifty chart I found online…

The majority of the pilots would have been Yang-Earth-Tigers. Everyone knows WuFei = "dragon" BUT it wouldn't make sense to make him either 12 or 24 so In order to have his secondary animal be a Wood-Dragon WuFei's birthday would fall in April or May and to have a Dragon for his secret animal would mean he entered the world between 07:00 - 09:00 AM.

In my view Quatre is younger than the other pilots, at 14 he would be a Yin-Earth-Rabbit, Gracious, kind, sensitive, soft-spoken, amiable, elegant, reserved, cautious, artistic, thorough, tender, self-assured, astute, compassionate, flexible, moody, detached, superficial, self-indulgent, opportunistic, and on occasion lazy.

Zechs birth year would have made him a Yin-Wood-Dog. According the traditions of the early Germanic peoples Samhain falls sometime in November and the Winter Solstice is generally December 21 (my birthday). Either would make Zechs' secondary element water, a suitable sign for the son of the sea king. And his second animal would be either boar or rat. If you ask me it sounds like the divergent characteristics of Milliardo vs. Zechs.

Milliardo = Boar: Honest, simple, gallant, sturdy, sociable, peace-loving, patient, loyal, hard-working, trusting, sincere, calm, understanding, thoughtful, scrupulous, passionate, intelligent, naive, over-reliant, self-indulgent, gullible, fatalistic, and materialistic.

Zechs = Rat: Forthright, disciplined, systematic, meticulous, charismatic, hardworking, industrious, charming, eloquent, sociable, shrewd, manipulative, dictatorial, rigid, selfish, obstinate, critical, over-ambitious, ruthless, intolerant, scheming, yet always sturdy.

I mentioned earlier that Treize was born on January 13 making his 2nd animal a water Ox…Dependable, calm, methodical, patient, hardworking, ambitious, conventional, steady, modest, logical, resolute, tenacious, stubborn, narrow-minded, materialistic, rigid, and demanding.

_**Zhang Qian**_ was an imperial envoy to the outside world in the 2nd century BC, during the time of the Han Dynasty. He was the first official diplomat to bring back reliable information about Central Asia to the Chinese imperial court, then under Emperor Wu of Han, Today Zhang Qian's travels are associated with the major route of trans-continental trade, the Silk Road. In essence, his missions opened up to China the many kingdoms and products of an unknown and new part of the world. The Roman historian Florus describes the visit of numerous envoys, including those Seres (Chinese), to Emperor Augustus, who ruled during the period in which I am writing, so my tale is not all that far fetched.

As mentioned in 'all Roads' after being exiled from Chang'an WuFei's master attempted to make a journey to the west hoping it would restore his place in the emperor's favor. Historically Zhang Qian only got as far as Partha but Wufei and his master took a more northerly route. Master Ron was killed and WuFei, thanks to his youth, skills…and prickly demeanor, was a prized slave passed from hand to hand till he ended up in Rome along with other merchandise from the Far East. In some translations of GW, I have seen Chang is spelled Zhang, it would make sense that Qian was an esteemed ancestor of our well traveled dragon.


	8. Introspection

Chapter: 8 Introspection

Trowa wasn't terribly surprised to find Heero in the menagerie. He was sitting in the corner pressed up against the brick wall and the bars of the wolf enclosure. His arm was actually inside the cage. His shoulder would have been as well if the space was a fraction wider. Trowa had no doubt the gladiator would have been in with the beasts if he had known where the key was kept. It wasn't that Heero wished to be a part of the pack, though the steel in his cobalt blue eyes likely earned him the right--and explained the reason the mother wolf was already looking a bit protective of him. Heero had come to the cage itself seeking solace.

A gladiator's cell was very small…as was the world they inhabited. Every facet of life was meticulously regimented; especially for those of the Scissori school. All they knew was an endless cycle of training and fighting indisposed with liberal doses of punishment and the occasional victory celebration. It was mind numbing.

No arena fighter ever goes about without a chain fixed to the ring in their collar. But when Zechs first removed the heavy transport chains both fighters had worn in the slave pens he replaced them with a thinner almost decorative chain. Zechs said was a sign of trust and belonging, that wasn't what Heero needed at the moment. He needed an anchor. To that end Heero had unfastened one end if this chain and used it to bind himself to one of the metal cross bars of the cage.

Trowa knew he had had been luckier than most. Dominus Barton had been a master rank and so his duties occasionally taken him beyond the confines of the arena out into the city. The young beast-lord smiled recalling the look on one portly nobles face when he had showed up on the man's doorstep, with a lion by his side to strong arm the man into voting for or against something that was soon to be brought to the floor of the senate. The tactic had proved quite effective and inconsequence Barton had gifted him with a cloak to banish the winter chill.

Slaves like Heero never had the opportunity to experience such things. They left the arena precinct save when the trainers brought them out for display in the forum the day before a fight to encourage betting. In fact they were kept in much the same fashion as the beasts he had trained with the Circus Maximus. It only made sense that Trowa approach the sullen warrior in much the same way he would a distressed beast.

His movements were cautious and slow he kept at least an arms length away from the other fighter and sat likewise with his back against the wall, bringing his knees up so he could rest his arms on them. The two sat in silence for a time. Even the wolves stopped paying attention to them, settling down with their tongues lolling. In the heat of the day even the stone was no longer cool against Trowa's back.

The green-eyed lad knew Heero wasn't going to speak first; so he had to. "What did you think of WuFei's forms?"

It was a question Heero could answer with his customary 'Hn' the gladiator exhaled a deep sigh. "It felt…" he began then shook his head and frowned.

Trowa decided to give voice to his own feelings in hopes that Heero would be more comfortable doing the same. "It reminded me a bit of being back in the _ludi_ when the _Doctores _were teaching me to fight by the numbers but the transitions were more fluid...more free. It was strange."

Heero nodded in agreement absently running his thumb over tattoo marking him a graduate of the Ludus Magnus, an imperial crown flanked by wings paired with the mark of crossed swords identifying him a Scissori. "Who are you?" he asked in a monotone. "Quatre said you were both a _Retarii_ and _Venator_. I don't see how that could be."

The green-eyed youth glanced down at his own arm. The story was recorded there above his slave identification code for all to see. His first mark was a 'D' surrounded by a laurel wreath indicating his training as a gladiator in the _Ludus Dacus_. Above it was the trident marking his specialization as a _Retarii_. When he had been certified a beast handler the Lions head of _Ludus Matutinus_ had been inscribed over the 'D' but the laurel of the previous mark remained. And the whip bisected the trident indicating he was a _Domitor_ not a common _Venator_. Recalling Heero's question, He said simply "Who am I…I am Trowa. Master Treize has said so."

"But what does that mean? Is it so easy for you to lay aside all you were made to be?" Heero ran his fingers through his perpetually mussed hair.

Trowa scoffed. "There is nothing easy about it…but it is necessary, more now than ever before. My last owner, Master Barton was a noble, of the same class as Treize, but the two could not be more different. I am just as far out of my element as you are Heero. The difference is that I have already lived through having my world turned on end. I begged master Treize to allow me a name because it was the only thing I could think of to help cope this time. This morning when we pushed WuFei in the pool I think began to understand some of what master Treize plans for us but it is still very strange.

"Why would you need a name, I thought you were called Triton."

The green eyed youth shook his head. "That was just what they put on the ranking boards. I didn't have a name A fact my master saw fit to remind me of almost daily. In fact my memories only go back about four years. I barely remember the _Ludus Dacus. _Catherine, a Greek performer who helped me when I was brought to the _Circus Maximus,_ told me that an injury or some traumatic event can sometimes result in memory loss. For all I know I could have been bathed in the River Lethe as a child. I learned quickly and well because I was a _tabla rasa (blank slate)_ that was how I was able to master so much in such a short time. But before Catherine I lived very much in the NOW the way animals do…it is why I relate to them so well. Captivity was …difficult, I wanted to die, when I couldn't kill. But she helped me grow beyond that. Before coming here I can recall only two people ever caring for me…Cathy is one." The green eyed boy confided quietly.

"I can't say whether Odin cared for me or not."

"Odin one-eye?" Trowa asked surprised

Heero nodded solemnly. There were few in the arena circuit who hadn't heard of his first _Lanista_. Despite the name, Odin DID have two eyes, he earned the moniker because of his single minded tenacity, a trait he hammered into every Scissori he trained. Odin began the process of forging Heero into a fighter to the exclusion of all else. The _Doctores_ continued that process after Odin met his end. Emotionlessly the boy recounted, "He was assassinated two years ago while watching my first fight in the Statilii Tauri Amphitheater."

"I watched Master Barton get ripped apart by a maddened bear. I think killing the bear bothered me more than Master Barton's death did--but I couldn't calm Ursus and there was a chance he would go for Cathy next."

"Your…relationship…with the female was a weakness. My trainer would never have stood for it. It seems strange that yours would. If he didn't care for you--or you him--why did you take his name?" Heero asked.

Trowa's thin lips curled in a brief smile, "I suppose I could tell you I wasn't thinking of my former master at all when I suggested the name. In the evenings Cathy used to tell me stories of mighty Ulysses and the siege of _Troia. _Troia and Trowa sound quite alike after all_._ I always imagined I'd like to travel there one day. But that would only be a half-truth. Master Barton often boasted of his linage. Having none of my own I suppose I envied him knowing where he came from and who his people were.

The beast lord shrugged, "Names have power and he forbade me from referring to him as anything but Master Barton or Dominus. Since I had never been aloud to use the name Trowa…that was the first name that came to mind. I suppose it is fitting. Quatre says it sounds strong and Zechs told me 'Troēwe' means 'faithful' in his native tongue. I suppose it is enough that hearing it will get my attention so I'll have no trouble answering to it."

Heero nodded understanding. "I suppose even small rebellions of that sort were beaten out of me a long time ago. Like you, I don't really remember my childhood--Some shadows, but that is all. Odin was the first say I was cast in the likeness of the heroes of old. That was what the masses called for in the arena. Chang says my people would have pronounced it Hiiro but I know nothing of that. To the _Doctores_ I was just a tool, a weapon, punished if I had any thoughts of my own. Now…here…I don't know what I am supposed to be. I … felt part of something when we helped Chang arrange the furniture in our room. And when master wanted to punish him for sleeping through breakfast I was grateful we wouldn't have to hurt him. I've never before been in a situation where I had to choose what to do, lessons or training. The wishes of Master and Zechs were in conflict. I didn't know what to do but training and following my lanista seemed more natural. But to go against a dominus--" Heero shivered.

The normally stalwart gladiator felt vulnerable. His posture declared the fact, arms practically hugging his knees to his chest, chin resting on his crossed wrists, "The doctors would have had me bled till I was faint if they knew how off balance I feel. This is all so new." He whispered "A dominius' word is inviolate and the lanista is his enforcer I was trained to see those over me as infallible. Each Victory was theirs to celebrate and gloat over they had done what was necessary to train me to be victorious. But when I wasn't all I had done previous counted for nothing. Defeat was mine and mine alone. Even if I went into the ring against older, more experienced fighters, with barely healed wounds or reeling from the effect of darts, it was my fault I wasn't strong enough to overcome. I don't want to let Master Treize down."

Trowa slowly reached one hand to ghost lightly across the other boy's arm. Any greater contact would surely cause Heero to flinch and that was not what Trowa wanted. "The Doctor's expectations are not the same as Master Treize's. He doesn't pretend to be perfect…he won't beat us when we aren't. his dealings with WiFei prove that." He counseled quietly, "You don't have to be the best of the best anymore, you can be the best you, you can be. I will help you wherever I can…So will the others. We aren't rivals, we are a team."

"You Hero…who are you…Heero Yuy," The boy mumbled softly. "Yuy is a good name. Do you think it suits me?"

"Yes, yes it does. A noble warrior deserves a noble name. Are you feeling a bit better now?" Trowa asked raising his visible eyebrow.

"Better." Heero nodded, unclipping the end of his chain from the bar and handing it to Trowa.

The green eyed boy laced the short silver chain under Heero's left arm, across his back, under the other arm then clipped it next to the end still attached to the ring on Heero's collar. "Lets go," Trowa announced.

Heero got a strange sparkle in his cobalt blue eyes, "Do you think we could--" he jerked his head toward the door at the opposite end of the menagerie.

"You want to Visit Nanashi," Trowa's eyes widened in surprise.

"--Just for a bit." Heero looked… shy?

"You like my cat." Trowa teased mildly.

"Hn." Heero replied with a smirk.

The two arena fighters passed through the section of the menagerie devoted to the pair of golden eagles and into the smaller section where the black leopard cub was sleeping. It opened one luminous blue eye to regard them before stretching and padding over to brush against Trowa's calves first then Heero's in greeting.

The cub let out a tiny cry when the Beast-lord grabbed Nanashi by the scruff of the neck like a mother cat would and balled him into his arms. Heero unhooked the cats leash from its peg on the wall and fastened it to the leather harness.

"I'll bet Duo has some of those meat rolls we had at lunch squirreled away. Do you think we could convince him to share again?" Heero asked quietly.

"Remember this cub is likely to grow up to weigh 180 _libra._ I'm not sure it is such a good idea for him to expect Duo to be keeping food in his clothing." Trowa mused.

"You have a point." Heero agreed scratching the animals head affectionately. "Is it true what they say that panthers are the result of a lion and a leopard mating?"

"Actually you have it backwards. Cathy told me the Greek name for Leopard is the combination of _léon _meaning lion and_ párdos _which is a male panther. I don't think it is true though. Having worked with all three, Lions have a different temperament are pack animals like wolves. The females prefer to hunt together while the males guard the territory and drive off rivals. That isn't true with Panthers and leopards. They have the same body type and temperament not to mention they are both loners. As far as I can see the only real difference is hair color. People are still people regardless of coloring so I believe that the beast, whether it is black or spotted, should be rightfully called a panther. The Greek name comes from _'__pan' _meaning_ all _and _'θηρ'_ meaning beast_. _They are hunters of all-beasts, they do not mix well with others.

"Another thing we have in common." Heero smirked, caressing one of Nanashi's velvety ears.

"Like it or not Heero you ARE part of the pack now; Speaking of which, the others are likely wondering what happened to us."

Heero nodded in agreement and they went out the rear door of the panther's chamber and back into the gardens.  
________________

Section 8 Notes:

a Venator was a trained hunter, a level below the gladiator on the ladder of public esteem, Noin was a proper Venator. In All roads I said Trowa was a Venator in the arena but between fights he was a _Domitor_ (tamer). Neither roll should be confused with the bestiarius ('beast-fighter'). They were the lowest of the low. Although bestiarii were recruited from the same source as gladiators (prisoners of war, criminals, etc.), they were despised, probably because they had little or no training and were in essence little more than animal fodder. I have found historical records telling of two men who committed suicide in grisly/disgusting ways rather than become bestiarii.

Marks: Gladiators, slaves and criminals had tattoo's (stigma) applied as an identifying mark on the hands, legs and face – all places that weren't covered by clothing. I won't disfigure our plots but I'm sure they are well acquainted with being stigmatized. Legionnaires (Like Zechs and Treize) were also tattooed but only on their hands. The removal of slave marks was one of the most frequent medical procedures of the day. Tattoos served more than just identification purposes. A slave being exported to Asia might be tattooed with the words 'taxes paid in full' others have been known to be inscribed with the words 'stop me I'm a runaway slave' on the forehead. WuFei may have despised his bells but I am sure he would hate that more—and Quatre would loose value if marked. Emperor Constantine banned the use of tattoos on the face by decree in AD 325.

Lethe: in Greek mythology, one of several rivers in Hades. The souls of the dead were made to drink from Lethe so they would not remember their past lives when reincarnated. Literally means "forgetfulness" or "concealment". It is related to the Greek word for "truth": a-lethe-ia (αλήθεια), meaning "un-forgetfulness" or "un-concealment".

_Ulysses and the siege of Troia._Troy, the capital of Asia Minor, the story he refers to is told in Homer's Iliad, Odyssey, and the Aeneid by Virgil.

Gladitor Training There were four schools in Rome: Ludus Magnus (the most important), Ludus Dacus, Ludus Gallicus, and Ludus Matutinus (school for gladiators dealing with animals). Training was conducted under teachers called "Doctores" and involved the learning of a series of "numbers", which were broken down into various phases much as a play is a series of acts broken down into scenes. Some believe this is where the saying to do something 'by the numbers' originally came from.


	9. Inexplicable Instructions

Chapter 9: Inexplicable Instructions

"So," Quatre began casually toying with the hem of his tunic, "Why do you think Trowa wants us to gather pine cones?"

"I-Dono." Duo shrugged. "They don't taste particularly good…maybe he wants to throw them at Heero. You know, knock come sense into him without getting in arms reach. That boy has some grip." The urchin pouted, petting his braid as he recalled how casually the gladiator had nearly strangled him with it when they first met.

"Um," the blonde began again, "You know what they look like then?"

"Sure, don't you?" the braided boy laughed.

"House slaves don't usually get out much," Quatre admitted with a slight shrug. "I haven't traveled any great distance since I was in the service of the Shah. He let me ride in the Royal _Mahmal_ with him; that was quite the experience let me tell you. It is something like a tent covered sedan chair supported on the backs of four camels. It is rather high up and a bit bumpy but there really wasn't much to see except desert so I mostly concentrated on my music…and conversation of course. We had some very nice conversations." The blonde smiled somewhat wistfully his crystal blue eyes glazed in memory.

"I suppose there aren't many _Pīnūs_ (pine trees) in the great desert and only a few stands in the capital," Duo explained. "But you've may have been in the Rhone district of the city and noticed the fountain by the temple of Isis. The whole thing is shaped like a big bronze Pigna (pinecone) with water gushing out'a the top." Turning to Marie he asked, "So, sprout, where can we find some needle-pines?"

"Sprout? Did you just call ME sprout?" The girl asked in mild disbelief.

"Sure, don't like it? How about…hmmm…Bubbles?" Duo suggested.

The little red-head let out an exasperated squawk that sounded very WuFei-like and Quatre half expected an 'injustice rant' to follow but Duo batted his long lashes and grinned manically.

The child let out a very deep sigh, very adult sounding…resigned in fact. "Grandfather told me it is rather difficult for slaves and _lesser peoples_ to wrap their minds around difficult concepts. And I understand Mariemaia' _IS_ a rather long name." There was just a touch of condescension in her voice reflecting the Barton blood in her veins but it was overshadowed by tenderness as she confessed, "Zechs calls me Marian from time to time, grandfather would say it is as close as his barbarian people can manage -- I happen to prefer it." Then her voice took on a steely edge, "If THAT will not suit you, I suppose Sprout is passable, as I admit I am still growing…the other one is worse…I refuse to acknowledge that…or anything along that vein. I dread to think what you will come up with if I let this continue So I shall settle on the perception of the lesser evil. You take further liberties with my name I shall soundly ignore you. You have been warned."

"Awe, Miss Mari-e-n." Violet eyes sparkled as the braided boy tried his best pout, "You know you aren't any fun don't you?"

She did not dignify the comment with a remark merely pointing out, "Father planted several different kinds of pine tree on the far side of the bath house." Then she sniffed haughtily and pointed her nose into the air but her eyes twinkled merrily knowing she had won him over.

Quatre smiled, trying not to chuckle at the exchange. Still, he couldn't help but admire the girl's tactic. If WuFei had had her forethought he might have escaped with being simply called Fei…but his reaction had been explosively indignant, fueling the flames of Duo's mischievous spirit. The blonde was certain that the braided urchin would forever be thinking up new and creative ways to mangle the boy's name.

It never ceased to amuse him just how many inane nicknames the other boy could come up with in a given day. Quatre found the dark-eyed dragon's flustered reactions almost as wildly entertaining as Duo did. If courses, unlike Fei, he was pleased to be the recipient of the odd unusual epithet; seeing how they were signs of the braided boy's favor. The Quatre half wished he was as creative, able to come up with a fitting nickname for Duo himself. But unfortunately his mind was of a more calculating nature and had to express himself in other ways. Focusing his sunniest smile on the other boy he asked, "So Duo how many _pigna_ did Trowa said we need to gather? Do you recall the numbers we went over earlier?"

"How many pine cones? I'd say more than five, two whole hands at least and then some. Maybe we should collect some needles too. Useful things pine needles." Duo mused quietly and began following the other two, only to become distracted before going very far.

------------------------

Clang – clang – clang, from this direction it was easy to hear the noise of the smithy and the air was warmed further from the radiating heat from the furnace.

Duo couldn't resist sticking his head in the open doorway to see what was going on. The smith was not what he expected at all. She was young and slim, not much older than they were, with short dark hair and curious eyes. "Hi, I'm Duo." The boy grinned.

"I'm not taking your collar off and I won't let you steal my tools." She told him bluntly. "I am loyal to Treize and I won't let you disgrace him. So don't even think about it."

Duo frowned…those things HAD been flitting about the back of his mind, yesterday. Right now though such thoughts were crowded out by three good meals and a good night sleep, so he said, "Um, Alright…We're supposed to be gathering pinecones and well, sap is awful hard to get out of hair like mine." He waved the tip pf his braid at her, "Do you have a few buckets we could use?" he asked strangely violet eyes casting about the crowded workshop.

There were so many bits and pieces, half built things and oddities. He wished he had time to study them more closely, get his hands on them to study. The smiths in the city had never let him get near enough to see what they were doing and given the girl's attitude she would be even less cooperative. He sighed. "I didn't mean to bother you." He started to turn away.

"Wait," she called after him. "Those two on the shelf have holes in them I haven't gotten around to mending them yet but they should be fine for pine cones." She told him.

"Thanks," he grinned taking the buckets she indicated.

"I'm Hildi." She said belatedly.

"Thank you, Hildi." The braided boy smiled bowing with as much courtesy as he could muster.

"Could you take those barrel hoops too?" she asked motioning her tongs toward the items leaning against the door frame. "The other one, the quiet fighter with the strange hair, asked to borrow them yesterday." She sighed shaking her head.

"That would be Trowa then, though I suppose Heero's hair is a bit unruly too. I'll see he gets them." Duo promised.

"I just can't get over you lot, with your strange requests!" Hildi snorted then grumbled "Pins, hoops, buckets …I can't imagine what mister Treize plans to do with you all, but you have got to be the strangest bunch of slaves I've ever met! But its no business of mine, long as you don't take my tools." she shrugged, Then she raised her hammer and tongs to continue her work.

Duo smiled collecting the buckets and shouldering the hoops before leaving to join Marie and Quatre at the small stand of pines sheltering in the shade of the bath house.

Seeing the pair studiously going about their task on complete silence brought a slight frown to his lips. Nobles and people accustomed to being around nobles were entirely too serious…he realized. It followed that If the big-T and Z-man wanted Kitty-Quat to teach letters numbers and music and Fei-Fei to teach printing, dance and fighting pretty, Tro and Ro would likely be teaching useful stuff like killing and keeping from getting killed. His job would be to get them all to lighten up, have fun and enjoy each day to the fullest. He suspected he had his work cut out for him too. But then, his conversation with the young smith gave him an idea.

It was amazing what one could accomplish if one had the proper tools. The unsuspecting pair didn't notice the mischievous glint in those violet eyes…till it was too late.

--------------------------

When Heero and Trowa returned to the garden it was to a decidedly different scene than they had left…except for Duo. The braided boy was sitting placidly in the shade with a small pile of pine cones. 5, 6, 7, 8…V, VI, VII, VIII…9, 10, 11, 12…IX, X, XI, XII, he counted quietly to himself, arranging the cones to form the numerals in the grass. 13, 14, 15 …XIII, XIV, XV.

And then there was Quatre and Marie--both looking a frightful mess. With masses of pine needles adhered to body, hair and clothing…with sap. They were also grinning like lunatics, oblivious to the others approach. Each was standing inside a barrel hoop laid on the grass attempting to toss pine cones into a bucket that had been placed at least twenty or thirty paces away.

The tiny pink tip of Quatre's tongue stuck out of the corner off his mouth in concentration while Marie unabashedly made chicken noises and flapped her arms to try to distract him. With a 'swish' and a 'thunk' the pine cone landed neatly into the bucket and the little blond hooted and danced in delight. Before moving his hoop two steps farther back.

It was Marie's turn now Quatre was clenching his fists and chanting. "Arceō, Arcēre, Arsī" (conjugating the word that means 'ward away' or miss)

The girl tossed two cones at the bucket, the first went in, but the second fell shy by a hands width.

"Whooo Hooo _Vīnco! Vīctors!_ (I win victory!) _Veni Vidi Vici_! (I came, I saw, I conquered) the blonde danced in his ring.

"Duo, how are you involved in this?" Heero growled at the braided boy,

The violet eyed boy did his level best to look absolutely innocent, "How am I…What makes you think that_ I_ had anything to do with…" he began but the gladiator's glare stole his words away.

"Two words" Heero scoffed "Water-fight." He said bringing to mind what had occurred when he had taken the menace to the bathhouse the previous night. [a scene in 'all roads']

"That was fun, wasn't it!" Duo grinned.

"Hn." The young gladiator glowered mockingly but his cobalt gaze softened. Clearly that which had been bothering the boy had been dealt with leaving him in a much better mood.

Seeing Trowa and Nanashi Duo cooed, "Awwww Fuzzy feet…my 'lil friend." and reached out opening and closing his hands in a silent bid to hold the cat.

"Did you wash your hands after you ate?" the trainer asked raising one critical eyebrow. Trowa knew he had promised the other boys could help him train the cub. That had been why he requested use of the barrel hoops in the first place. He had known Duo was excited at the prospect, apparently excited enough to get the hoops himself. The fact that Heero was eager to help as well had been something of a surprise though.

"Umm" violet eyes cast back and forth as of to ensure no one was watching… but they were. Still he hastily licked each palm and said "yes"

"Not good enough _Baka_." Heero growled.

"Q-boy and….Miss Mariamia--" Duo frowned at the name, "--need to get washed up more than I do."

The two in question made their way over to the rest of the group and Heero let out a snort that was almost a chuckle. "He may be right." the stoic fighter admitted a smile tugging vainly at the corner of his lips as he took in the sap smudged pair.

Trowa nodded in silent agreement. "Since _Dominus_ Treize and _Lanista_ Marquis are still in the baths you three ought to use the well by the kitchen and get cleaned up. The cook will have some leftovers I asked for her to set aside for the cub. Can you bring them back with you please?"

"Of course Trowa,' Quatre gave the trainer a sunny smile.

The green eyed boy was suddenly shy, peering from behind his fall of cinnamon hair. People didn't often smile at him even when he was victorious in the ring the praise had been directed to his master rather than himself. Quatre seemed so genuine it was difficult not to be affected by it. "Thank you." He faltered quietly. Like Heero, there was much about this new life he would have to get accustomed to, some easier than others.

--------------------

Section 9 Notes:

Pinus is Latin for pine tree, _Pigna_ is Pine cone in Italian, (More on their use later--evil grin) Pigna is also the name of Rione IX district of Rome. The symbol for the Rione as noted in the text is the colossal bronze pine cone, which decorated a fountain. The Pigna was moved first to the old basilica of St. Peter's, where Dante saw it. In the 15th century it was moved again to its current location, the upper end of Bramante's Cortile del Belvedere, which is now usually called in its honor the Cortile della Pigna, In 49 BC, civil war broke out between Julius Caesar and his general Pompey. Pharnaces used the opportunity to make himself ruler of Colchis and Lesser Armenia. The Armenian king appealed to Caesar's lieutenant in Asia for help. His army was defeated at at Nicopolis in Anatolia. After this show of strength against the Romans, Pharnaces drew back to suppress revolt in his new conquests. However, the extremely rapid approach of Caesar in person forced Pharnaces to turn his attention back to the Romans. At first, recognizing the threat, he made offers of submission, with the sole object of gaining time until Caesar's attention fell elsewhere; but Caesar's speed brought war quickly, and battle took place near Zela (modern Zile in Turkey), where Pharnaces was routed and was able to escape with just a small detachment of cavalry. The story of the battle which is said to have lasted all of 4 hours (including hunting down survivors and taking prisoners) Julius Caesar sent this message back to Rome after his victory in 47 BC.

Veni Vidi Vici

In addition Pharnaces was an ancestor of Quatre's friend the Parthian prince. The boy's tutors would have stressed the battle and the events leading up to in his 'roman education' in an effort to remind him of his place as a subservient prince. So Quatre likewise would have known the story and learned much of his skills in strategy listening to those lessons while he played harp to entertain the young prince. In the fourth century AD, Pontos became the border of the East Roman or Byzantine Empire. The warriors of Pontos became the guardians of the Eastern borderlands and the "akrites" (border warriors) became legendary, the subject of an epic poem in both written form and oral folk poetry that Pontic singers still sing today, The Akritans defended the border against, or allied themselves with, Georgians, Arabs, Oguz, Khazars, Armenians, Alans, Persians, Kurds, Avars and many of the various tribes of the Caucasus. Sounds like Maguanac Corps to me.


	10. The Unexpected

Chapter: 10 The Unexpected

There was a noticeable spring in Treize's step when he left the bath house. Zechs and WuFei trailed behind him talking quietly. "So If you weren't here, you'd still be in a mountain monastery?" the big blonde asked.

"If Master Ron hadn't decided I should accompany him on his travels as the Emperor's ambassador, I wouldn't have followed him into exile, yes. The moon god Yue Lao ties a red thread between two people and wherever life takes them. Regardless of time, place, or circumstance they will be drawn inexorably together. It is fact. The thread may stretch or tangle, But it will never break--of this I am certain."

"The Romans believe it is the three _Parcae _(the fates) that weave the threads of life together. Their loom depicts the journey of mortal and immortal alike from birth to death and beyond. They say Nona spins the thread, Decima measures it to the proper length, and Morta is responsible for seeing the thread is worked into the whole, tying it off and clipping the ends at the appointed time. My people share this myth but we know the goddesses as _Laima_, _Dækla_ and _Karta_."

"Karta…Like Quatre?" WuFe mused.

"Yes, after many, many, daughters, My Uncle Scead petitioned the fates to grant him a son. They sent him on a quest that would require him to trace his thread of destiny across half a continent to see it happen. I would not be at all surprised if my cousin owes the goddess his name, if not his very life."

Treize scoffed. "It is up to us to carve our own destiny. The gods give man the freedom to do whatever they want--then they sit back on their mountain tops to watch what happens for entertainment. I have never heard of a god or goddess who actually _cared_ or was at all emotionally invested it those who worship them."

"But still you keep looking." Zechs whispered to himself.

Treize cast a look over his shoulder at the other two but said nothing either to support or deny the claim. The three had not yet rounded the corner of the bathhouse enroot to the garden when an unexpected voice halted their steps.

"Cousin Janus is just bitter because Bacchus did him a bad turn at his _Liberalia_--I doubt he has been inside a temple since." A voice interjected from behind them. Zechs and WuFei spun surprised to see two women emerge from the tree line.

The ginger haired man stiffened, "My name is TREIZE, Dorothy, as well you know." The words were out of his lips before he turned to regard the newcomers. "And last I checked, the fact that your grandfather is my uncle, does not entitle either of you to make assumptions or comment about my particular beliefs, or lack there of." He scowled, "Why are you here?"

"See how he treats me?" the woman sniffed, wiping a porcelain cheek with one finger with the affectation of wiping away an invisible tear. "He is so mean…I don't know how you can stand it Lucrezia."

WuFei eyed the two women incredulously. They seemed polar opposites. The first and shorter of the two, Dorothy, wore a Greek style _chiton_ in vivid blue, rather than the white pleated _stola_ most roman women favored. The difference was apparent in more than the color of the dress. Instead of long straight sleeves hers were open on top, fastened only at intervals with silver pins leaving swaths of ivory skin exposed.

The young woman's hair was almost as impressive as Zech's, both in length and color, and she wore it elegantly arranged cascading down from a bejeweled comb. Only the distinctly forked brows were indicative of her connection with the Kushrenada line; a trait which admittedly seemed more suited to the ginger haired nobleman, than his cousin.

The second female had hair dark as a raven's wing, cropped short in an almost masculine style. Her eyes reminded him of Duo's only darker and she was dressed in a tunic similar to Zech's except that it came to mid-calf rather than the knee. Her arms were bare and a band of what appeared to be ivy had been tattooed encircling each bicep.

She the wolf's head crest worked into the buckle of her belt clearly identified her as one of the Women attached to the estate. This… Lucrezia carried a bow in one hand and a quiver of arrows hung from her belt. Though the name was unfamiliar the eastern youth thought it likely this was the mistress warden of the grounds, and former arena huntress Zechs had mentioned upon their arrival here.

"Oh, I manage well enough." The huntress replied with a smirk. "_Tribunus_ Treize, your cousin was just telling me that she has never had the opportunity to meet our _Salararius_, Zechs." she inclined her head in recognition of the tall man. "Have you been hiding him?"

"I assure you I have only his best interests at heart Ms. Noin. As I expect you have found, lady Catalonia has a proclivity for straying from the path and has been known, on more than one occasion, to take others with her. If it were not so, I expect you would not have come upon her wandering aimlessly in my woods. Now, I see my Diana has unstrung her bow. I dread the turmoil that would result should Mighty Neptune give ear to the siren's call."

WuFei was still learning the roman pantheon but Duo had mentioned Diana was the goddess of the hunt so it was a reasonable assumption that Treize was playfully taunting the dark haired woman for permitting herself, to be distracted from her duties. And Neptune, the sea king of course was Zechs. The former temple slave made a mental note to ask Duo what a siren was. Though He suspected in this context it was less than complimentary. He had only half-listening when Quatre told them of his former mistress but he was interested to observe why little blonde had described Lady Catalonia as 'formidable' though he would have preferred to have done so from a safer distance. As it was he tried to blend into the shadows beneath the eves of the bath house.

Dorothy's pale eyes narrowed, in response to her cousin's assessment of her but WuFei got the distinct impression that this was a dance the two nobles had covered many, many, times over the years. The interplay between them was so common that the verbal barbs had been worn quite smooth.

"I thought it best to warn you, my entourage will arrive at your door within the hour to announce my intention to dine with you this evening. I know how fiery Vulcan values his solitude" Dorothy sneered and Lucrezia cringed at the other woman's audacity. Comparing Treize to the lame god of the forge was a low blow and had WuFei not so recently relieved the pain of his injured leg the noble might have lost his temper…giving her the victory in this iteration of their game in which the object was seemingly _Aequam servare mentum,_ (to keep a clear and unruffled mind)

"Why are you here?" Treize reiterated coolly.

"I am a women, I do not require a reason." The blonde insisted, "Did you find my palatable _puer__ servus_ to your liking?" (slave boy) "All the court knows you are ever the _arbiter elegantiae_. (An authority in matters of taste)

"Quatre is adjusting nicely to his duties in my household. He did a fine job managing my accounts this morn." Treize informed her, "But I am certain you are not here out of concern for his well being."

"Oh yes I am sure you have been pleased by his figures and found his figure pleasing no doubt. Perhaps I should warn sweet Ganymede it is not Zeus that has carried him away to Olympus. In taking such a tasty tidbit Fumble footed Vulcan might easily rend him with his claws before he had the chance to take his place at the table." She smirked.

Zechs growled bristling Wufei could see in him echoes of the sea king after which he had been named and the storm was building. Insinuating Treize would treat his slaves with anything but courtesy was a serious affront. Treize lay a hand on his companion's arm knowing it was time to end the game. "Zeus was speaking to me of a wedding feast. I expect it would be a pity if he should learn his dear Discordia would sooner give her golden apples away to spend more time in the company of those bound to follow Nemesis' call.

The blonde woman eyes widened and she gasped in horror. "You won't tell grandfather I went back to the arena! You know he…Treize…that isn't fair!"

Treize only smiled, raising one forked eyebrow--Clearly he was the victor this round. "Answers." he prodded.

Dorothy sucked the air through her teeth. "Fine," she sighed. "I was riding in my sedan chair taking a leisurely jaunt in the countryside, when I was beset upon by a flock of potential suitor's. I pulled the curtains tight, as any demure young lady ought, and when they weren't looking I slipped out through a slot in the floor and made my way here through the woods hoping for a few hours peace. As I see it they will either; get bored and go home--unlikely, or they will arrive when my servants and litter-bearers do."

Having given him what he wanted she decided to make one final gambit. "And while we are conversing of those bound to Nemesis this--" She ran her palm up the center of Zechs chest. "--fine specimen makes me wonder what else you have been hiding from me." Zechs winced at the unexpected contact and Treize caught Dorothy's wrist and squeezed gently as he removed the offending appendage from his aide-de-camp's breast.

"I'll remind you only once…_cousin_, M'lord is a _Liberti._ (a freedman) You can not compel him to pay court to you as you do your other _favorites_. And even if that were not the case, he is of MY household--You should recall from when we were children, I do not share." Treize said casting a side long look at WuFei. "Please inform the cooks there will be guests for dinner. I expect they will want some form of entertainment after the meal, perhaps you and others can come up with something."

"Was he one of your new…" the Noin woman was asking, but WuFei didn't hear the rest. He hoped Treize would forgive him for not taking the time to bow formally since he practically fled back to the private gardens to warn the others. He hated to admit how much the presence of those two onnas bothered him. Thus far Treize had proved to be more honorable than WuFei had ever dared hope in a master. Likewise, he was confident Zechs' uncompromising sense of loyalty would ensure he acted in accord with his commanders wishes.

But WuFei knew, from prior experience, that roman nobles will sometimes act differently when around others of their kind. And women in particular seemed to have been endowed by the gods with the ability to induce males to all sorts of foolishness. Trust was a tenuous thing and WuFei hated uncertainty.

------------------------------------------

Section 10 Notes:

Scead and Kaserena Winner: cannon names for Quatre's parents Zayeed and Quaterine. I would think these were the middle eastern pronunciations of Germanic original. **Scead** is A-S for Shade, which could mean shadow or spirit it is a good name for a noted druid and seer. **Kaserina** is from the same root as Zechs sir name "Mer_kaser_" It conveys the idea of royalty and purity and in indicative of their familial relationship.. Winn is A-S for war, battle or strife. Winnan meant conquer or win so "**Winner**" meant then just what it does today.

The three goddesses Zechs mentions are from Latvian mythology of the Baltic tribes. As the Germanic tribes of this period were largely migratory I expect their mythology would have been a combination of various beliefs taken from or adopted by other tribes they encountered. Zechs considers his native home to be "Amberland" which consists of everything north of the lands claimed by Rome.

The Liberalia (17 March) is the festival of Liber Pater and his consort Libera. The Romans celebrated with sacrifices, processions, ribald and gauche songs, and masks which were hung on trees. This feast celebrates the maturation of young boys to manhood. More on this later.

Tribunus and Salararius: Noin, being Noin tends to refer to people by rank. It isn't just Zechs and Treize it is General Treize and Lieutenant Zechs. Before his injury Treize was a commander of the legions, a Tribunas. Unlike the series, This is not the highest rank in the roman military. That would be the Legate, legates were patricians of senatorial rank and Kushrenada's were the junior branch of the family, ranking below Dermail and Catelonia. Dorthy's father 'general Catalonia' was the legate of highest rank in Treize's regiment. When he was killed in battle Treize took over his duties, keeping the other 5 tribunes of the unit in order till the emperor could officially appoint another commander. If not for Treize's injury he would have taken become Legate himself but as it turned out the position went to the emperor's grandson Germanous, who had served as Treize's Tribuni Angusticlavii or junior tribune. Zechs, as a 'barbarian' was a 'Feoderati' who fought with the legion but was outside the usual command structure. His rank was that of Salararius, which meant he was placed wherever the commander needed him.

Ganymede: A handsome young boy who was abducted by Zeus (in the form of an eagle) given immortality and eternal youth to serve as the Gods cupbearer in Olympus. Quatre was Dorothy's Cupbearer but the story also has less savory connotation; Bad Dorothy…bad. Poor Quatre -hug-

Discordia is the Roman goddess of strife and discord. She belonged to the retinue of Mars and Bellona. The god and goddess of war She is the Greek Eris who disrupted the wedding feast of Peleus and Thetis by throwing a golden apple that everyone wanted. The fight that ensued supposedly began the Trojan war. I would be hard pressed to find a better parallel for Dorothy.

Nemesis: goddess of Vengeance and Retribution. It is thought that gladiators made offerings to this 'goddess of fortune' before fighting in the Roman arenas. So this reference is alluding to the fact that Dorthy is known to consort with gladiators; Which is forbidden to someone of her station by Julian law. Not only could Senators, and those of senatorial or equestrian families, not marry or tryst with gladiators they were forbidden from doing so with freed-slaves, actors, women/men of ill-repute, or those guilty of adultery. One might assume this was a law written with Dorothy in mind. Historically, the Emperor Augustus' own daughter Julia was found guilty of crimes against this particular Julian law, see next chapter. Eventually he was forced send her into exile. If Duke Dermail was going to feed Quatre to the eels for breaking a carafe of wine one wonders what he would do in attempts to rein in Dorothy.

--------------------------


	11. Dinner Party: First Course

Chapter: 11 Dinner Party

First Course

Noin was noticeably absent. She tended to avoid contact with nobles wherever possible and honestly, Treize couldn't say he blamed her. There were six of them who had come under the guise of escorting Lady Catalonia: Gwinter Septiem, Nichol Bundt, Leonis Muller, Victor Gaintz,Nicol Mieser, and Lon Sernan. Meiser and Surnan weren't so bad, but the others were younger sons of the most predatory families in the senate. With suitors such as these, he could almost forgive his cousin for her diversions among the arena bound…so long as she kept her claws off Heero, Trowa and Zechs of course. Treize hadn't been kidding when he warned her of his…protective nature.

The shadow of the sundial had barely crept to the next mark and already it was clear these so called 'suitors' saw Dorothy, not as the intelligent, vivacious, forthright, …and admittedly annoying individual she was, but as a trophy; a means by which they could obtain the power and prestige that went along with the Catalonia name. Not to mention the fortune Dorothy inherited upon her father's death. They saw her as the means by which they could gain notice of the Fellows of Rome…possibly acquiring senate seats for themselves and their friends.

Treize could already see why his cousin had been willing to do just about anything for a few hours of peace from the nattering crowd. Even so, He would not soon forgive his cousin for subjecting them on him and his household. She was well aware how he cherished his solitude; else he would not have taunted him with it. There was no denying she knew exactly what she was doing leading these curs to his threshold. Now he was honor bound to show them hospitality. The mere thought set his teeth on edge. But he would not, could not, let her win.

The ginger haired man massaged the bridge of his nose, collecting his thoughts and reasserted his hold on his already frayed temper, before bracing himself to return to the fray.

"Gentlemen…Lady, if you will follow me to the _exedra_ (formal dining room) I have been informed _Cena_ will be served shortly. Please excuse my meager offerings as we have had little time to prepare. Still my slaves have informed me there will be entertainment with the meal. I must admit I am eager to see what they have come up with on such short notice; if you will find your places, please." He motioned to the low tables.

As much as he hated guests Mariemaia was practically shining with the prospect of playing hostess. Treize could see it in her clear blue eyes. As lady of the house it was her place by right, though she didn't mind sharing the duty with Dorothy on this occasion. Despite Dorothy's many irritating habits, she was closest thing Marie had to a doting aunt. In view of the festivities she had taken Mariemaia in hand, coaxing her short hair into curls with the help of a hot iron.

Many women in court had to resort to using expensive dyes to achieve the red-gold color that came naturally to the Kushrenada line and there had been no need to dust the girl's already porcelain features with chalk powder either. But Dorothy had shown her how to accent her eyelids with saffron and outlined them with charcoal giving her a more sophisticated look; though he suspected it had not been Dorothy's influence that had led his daughter to choose the subtle fragrance of roses with which to accent her formal attire.

Treize well aware Marie was far more mature than one would expect of someone her age. Her grandfather Dekim had been meticulous about having her schooled in what was considered the 'womanly virtues'. Still seeing her decked out in the full compliment of female finery caused a crease to form between Treize's forked brows. His little girl was growing up. He could not hold back the tired sigh as he contemplated the fact that--in less time than he anticipated--hordes of equally uncouth suitors would be descending on the manor in increasing frequency seeking his daughter's favor as they did Dorothy's. He stifled a mild groan at the thought.

Mariemaia moved with poise and grace her steps still lacked some small measure of confidence. She was distracted taking care not to tread on the purple hem of her _toga praetexta. _Dorothy in contrast wore her own formal wrap like a second skin and practically danced as she moved. The plethora of bracelets jangled at her wrists as she held the heavy clay washbasin for each of the guests. Marie moved with her bringing the lighter pitcher and pouring water over the men's hands in preparation for the meal.

By tradition the couch to the farthest left was always reserved for the master of the house and, as he had no wife, Mariemaia usually sat on the cushion by his side. But when the ablutions were finished and the bowl returned to its stand Marie guided her aunt, as an honored female guest, to sit in her place. Treize knew this was what the Barton's has taught was expected of a dutiful daughter. But he still regretted the fact.

His daughter smiled sweetly and bowed to host assembled. "To start the _gustatio_ (appetizer course) we have honey-wine with a salad of cabbage, kale, Egyptian lentils and peas. Also we have pickled artichokes, cucumbers, mushrooms and leeks." She announced before moving one place to the right to sit on the floor beside Zechs' couch.

Following this announcement, Duo and Quatre entered both dressed Parthian style in willowy blue and violet silks. Their movements were slow, exaggerated, accompanied by the tiny tinkling bells on Quatre's anklet. Duo brought the trays to the table while the Quatre skillfully mixed wine, water, honey and spices in the amphora before tasting it and filling the goblets.

Treize thought the blonde boy's cheeks looked a bit more flushed than usual and hoped it was not due to the presence of his former mistress. Granted He was fully aware his cousin was enough to unnerve anyone and Quatre in particular had reason to be sensitive. But in closer investigation that didn't seem to be the case since the boy's forearms and neck showed the same rosy tint--As if someone had mistaken him for a golden lamp and attempted to burnish him till he shown. An amusing image, still it begged the question-- "What have they been up to?" he leaned over and asked Zechs that very thing.

"Oh you'll have to wait and see," the blonde smiled, "but these two won't be dancing." His aide whispered conspiratorially. Sure enough the two slaves withdrew to a nest of pillows in an out of the way corner. Quatre brought out his lyre and the Duo accompanied him with a drum.

"They don't know how?" Treize surmised quietly.

Zechs thin lips turned up in amusement. "On the country, I expect your cousin would not have been so enamored of our Quatre were his skills not in top form and after watching our ball of energy prancing about the garden I'd say Duo is easily in a class of his own. Haven't you noticed there is something hypnotic about that braid? The way he moves only brings attention to it." Zechs shook his head subtly as if to banish the vision from his ice-blue eyes before continuing.

"From what I chanced to overhear, they were both quite eager to show us what they can do. Heero objected though, rather forcefully I might add. Our taciturn warrior doesn't think much of our 'guests' restraint and the other two backed him up. I feared there would be friction between the slaves and at first Quatre and Duo were hurt at being consigned to an unobtrusive corner for much of the evening, but then they seemed to realize their fellows were genuinely worried about them and just trying to keep them safe the best way they knew how."

Treize refrained from ribbing his friend about his penchant for listening at doors by virtue of the information he had garnered. And, of course, Treize knew that if he hadn't been a prisoner to the dictates of hospitality he would have been trying to catch a glimpse of the preparations himself. Treize hadn't thought much of his guests before and Now that Zechs had brought up the topic, it was easy to note the wickedly possessive gleam in Bundt's dark eyes as Duo arranged himself on the pillows. And the smile Muller sent toward Quatre could only be described as oily. "It was a wise precaution." Treize admitted, "I don't trust these fools either. I was wrong to even suggest the boys put themselves on display. Perhaps I should just cancel the night's entertainment now."

Zechs smiled as he nibbled at his salad, "A noble sentiment my lord, but they have been preparing these past several hours. It is enough to know our boys are well aware of the situation. I suspect what they have planned will entertain even while it showcases their ability to fend off unwanted advances. But you can judge that for yourself, I believe WuFei is up next."

"How intriguing." Treize noted quietly taking a swallow of wine. There was no denying WuFei was an exotic--though his actual origin had been something of a mystery 'till the boy had seen fit to enlighten them. Treize was positive the masters of Romefell had known an emissary from the silk lands had been sent to Rome. WuFei's lord had likely not been the first but there were those in the senate who would never permit such an alliance to occur.

The Cesar was growing old and the succession was still in doubt. No new players would be permitted to enter the field this late in the game. The emissary had been murdered and WuFei enslaved by virtue of the knowledge he possessed. It was not something Treize particularly wanted these power hungry whelps to know. The music was a slow start to the evening setting the mood as it were. But as best he could tell, the guests thought the first course was a stunning success. He only hoped the rest of the evening would go as smoothly.

Section 11 notes:

Up to this point Treize and the boys have been taking their meals in the 'triclinio' (dining room) or in the back gardens. The exedra was a large, elegant room usually located off the peristyle inner garden. It was used for formal entertainments and lavish dinner parties. The wall paintings in this type of room often continue the garden theme. Sometimes having elaborate mosaic floors. After seeing a general layout of a roman house I suspect this is the same room mentioned in 'All roads' as 'the music room' which had been shut up after the death of Treize's mother and only just reopened and made proper for use again.

The main meal of the day, the _cena, _would begin around 3 o'clock and could last until late in the night, during a dinner musicians, acrobats, poets or dancers would perform especially if guests were invited. By the end of the Republic, it was usual for the meal to be served in three parts: first course (_gustatio_), main course (_primae mensae_), and dessert (_secundae mensae_) these would often be followed by a _comissatio _or round of drinks. The menu is accurate as is the sausage stuffed pig found in the next chapter.

Yes Roman's did use curling irons though they were heated in the fire and far more complicated to use than the modern variety, Such fashion usually required the services of an expert female hairdresser called an ornatrix, who also doubled as make up artist. While men frequented the tonsor (barber) Hair pieces, weaves, wigs, hair lotions, holding solutions and dyes were well known to both men and women of Rome especially in the upper classes.

As early as the second century BC, caustic soap made of tallow and ashes was imported from Gaul (France) to make reddish-yellow hair dye. In some households Slaves hair was shaved to make wigs for their masters. Luckily that is not something our boys have to worry about though Quatre's may have been short as a result of such a shearing in the past. Blonde hair was such a sought after commodity, it was an object of trade from the Germanic tribes beyond the Rhine and Danube. I expect there were few Romans who saw Zechs…or Dorothy with out envy in their eyes; though Treize and Marie would have been seen as equally well endowed. Duo likely would have had to fight hard not to have been relived of his braid by money hungry wigmakers.

-------------------------------------------


	12. Dinner Party: Second Course

Note: this chapter has had substantial modification since it was handed back 'finalized', by my long-suffering beta TMC. I apologize for punctuation and any other errors that may have cropped up during the interim.

12 Dinner Party: Second course

The sound of chimes signaled the beginning of the _primae mensae (main course)_. Duo and Quatre jumped to clear the table and Mariemaia stood to announce the menu, "We have a roast of Pork stuffed with Sausage and bread with garum (fish sauce)." The girl said with a broad grin and a twinkle of mischief in her ice blue eyes.

"What do you have planned?" Treize asked his daughter nervously when she had returned to sit on the cushion beside Zechs' couch.

"Patience papa. All will be revealed shortly," She winked at him. Seeing the girl was not forthcoming with an answer he redirected the question to Zechs the large blonde only shrugged.

Duo and Quatre playfully scampered back to their places and the music began again. this was not the soft melodic ambiance music Quatre had crafted for the previous course. Duo's drumming played the predominant roll as the blonde wove in a delicate coulter-point with the chimes. What the braided urchin could do with a simple percussions instrument was surprising. The rhythm he wove was complex and varied. It seemed to resound with the beating of the heart becoming hypnotic almost drawing the listeners in. The tempo increased subtly as did the volume and when the staccato pattern reached its climax the doors were flung open to admit WuFei.

The eastern youth looked breathtakingly exotic. His jet-black hair was loose from its usual tie, flowing like silk over his shoulders contrasting sharply with white Egyptian kilt that was all the clothing he wore. Also in the Egyptian style, His eyelids had been brushed with malachite powder and outlined with kohl. Treize recalled Dorothy gifting his daughter with the wildly expensive Egyptian eye-palate for her previous birthing-day. The result was most effective, enhancing his exotic features even while masking them as something familiar. But his resourceful slaves hadn't stopped there.

Those vibrant jewel-like pigments, had been used to accent the dragon tattoo inscribed upon WuFei's naturally honey-hued chest. The result was a masterful display of artistic skill upon a living canvass. But the careful application of malachite, ocher, saffron, and lapis could not fully distract the observer from the forceful bearing of the youth who wore it. WuFei's obsidian eyes ghosted over each occupant in the room. This was not the look of a slave seeking approval from his master, this was something else entirely.

The boy's eyes seemed to penetrate to the very essence of a man as if he was silently taking their measure assessing their worth. The defiant tilt to his neck showed distain for most. Treize and Zechs were not spared but he gave them a slight nod; an acknowledgement between equal. Many a master would deliver a sound beating for such insolence but not Treize. He found his dragon's fire a rather refreshing and would sooner loose a limb that see such a spirited individual broken. Unfortunately several of his 'guests' did not see things in the same light

First and foremost among these was Leonis Muller who had seen himself reflected in those eyes and did not like the result. He made a snort of contempt directed toward WuFei. I recognize that pathetic hand-me-down. Don't tell me you actually paid money for that ungrateful wretch. Sure it looks pleasing enough and its papers list skills long as your arm but soon enough you'll learn it is no better than an animal and twice as stubborn. There is more than one of the fine patrician family that has been insulted by this one's unseemly behavior--It even bit my friend Alex!" The dark haired man frowned. "Then again, maybe his presence here is a sign from the gods…Me thinks I ought to exact a little _quid pro quo _(Latin: literally something for something)…first class entertainment." He grinned unfastening his belt to use as an improvised whip. Marks on the supple leather led Treize to suspect this was not the first time it had served this particular purpose. He cracked it once in the air and WuFei flinched.

"_Dēsinō! Vis consili expers mile ruit sua_! (Stop, leave off! Force without good sense falls by its own weight) Treize's blue eyes smoldered with anger. "Haven't you heard discretion is the better part of Valor Mueller? If any of mine do something I deem worthy of punishment, my man Zechs will exact it. It is His Duty. But such things are to be conducted in private and not for any entertainment of yours. Past is past. When I purchased that boy he became mine. Old debts are to be forgotten, and unless you intend to strike me with that belt you had best put it away."

Despite his bold words, Mueller was nothing more than a bully and a coward. He thought nothing about harassing helpless plebeians and slaves but when faced with a man of Treize's station he became automatically conciliatory. "Ah well, _quod cibus est aliius aliis es venenum_. (what is food to some is poison to others) That boy has proven venomous to all his past masters. I doubt a one of them has kept him for a full season. One would think he has been clearly marked with the twisted serpent of _Apep_ as a warning. But you are the master of the house. Who am I to oppose you?" He practically cooed.

Dorothy smiled, and licked a bit of garum sauce from the tip of her finger. "_De facto de gustibus non est disputandium_. (In reality there is no accounting for tastes) she sighed expressively "Now, while I fully enjoy admiring this exotic beauty. My eyes have feasted well enough on honeyed skin and finely chiseled features. I should like to learn what makes that terrifying beast sketched on his chest writhe and dance. But I am aware of my Cousin's sensibilities well enough to know what is clearly not on the menu and content my self with what is. Enough of this boorish behavior, I have yet to see the main course, Roast pig wasn't it? Seeing how the promised dish has yet to make an appearance at the table I expect your thralls have something more planned. Shall we commence with the entertainment?"

"Of course cousin," A slightly strained smile graced Treize's features. Dorothy most often enjoyed throwing more fuel on a fire and fanning the flames of discord. But she could be a strong ally when facing a mutual foe. She clearly thought as little of Mueller as he did. And while letting Zechs kill the man would be incredibly satisfying—the rare occasion of having Dorothy side with him to diffuse the situation was equally gratifying. Treize inclined his head at the dark eyed slave and announced, "You may continue, _ad arbitrium_" (at your pleasure)

Quatre and Duo picked up the tempo of their playing and WuFei immediately vaulted into a frenzied display of acrobatics. His movements were like poetry, like art, but more vibrant and alive and undoubtedly more violent resplendent with high kicks, twists and handsprings. The practice in the garden earlier was nothing compared to this performance. Every movement of the stunningly supple body choreographed to the rhythm of the drum and Treize felt the beating of his heart striving to match that compelling beat. Faster and faster, hands and feel moved with dizzying precision and when the rhythm reached a crescendo together everything stopped, leaving the young man kneeing before the table.

WuFei bowed formally and the door behind him opened again to admit Trowa and Heero, who had been likewise rendered into living works of art. Bear arms and chest now depicted fanciful beasts and vigorous battle scenes rippling across well toned physique. The two warriors did not even glance at the occupants of the table. Instead all their attention was focused on the platter they carried between them. The roast pig was quite plump but not particularly large. Instead of placing it on the table, as the guests expected, they placed it in WuFei's outstretched hands. He knelt; head bowed in a show of subservience and held the main course before him, its weight supported largely on one upraised knee.

That was the cue for the next part of the entertainment to begin. The two gladiators had retrieved their weapons and squared off. Trowa used WuFei's saber rather than his trident and Heero used the trademark twin blades of the Scissori. WuFei knelt still and serene, like a rock in the midst of a stream as the warriors circled him as they battled one another. It was a potent image of trust. Treize wondered if he would be so calm amid a hail of ringing blows.

The display looked very like what one would expect on the floor of the arena. Blades flashed tangling with one another. What was unexpected was that the blades, while aiming for their opponent or more frequently the impassive WuFei, were actually making contact with the roast pig. After successive cuts the carcass split spilling out sausages in a dramatic fashion.

When the meat had been rendered into bite size chunks, WuFei rose elegantly to place the platter on the table. He bowed at the waist before Treize, locking eyes with his master.

Loud enough for all to assembled he announced. "For the record, I submit not because I am forced to…but because I so choose." Then with a dramatic flick of his wrists two puffs of powder flew from his fists, igniting instantly in a brief shower of flames. That left all, Treize included, astonished. Before the fire had died on the tile floor WuFei had executed three consecutive back-flips and stepped serenely out the door through which he had come.

Left to their own devises Heero and Trowa used their deadly blades to serve the company.

Duo had been fidgeting during the other boy's performance. Treize wasn't sure whether it was out of worry for his comrades' safety amid those flashing blades or simply because the perpetually hyper boy he had reached his limit of inactivity. As soon as the others moved to the side the braded boy laid aside his drum to refill the wine goblets. Trowa sighed but didn't seem surprised opting to take his place beside Quatre to accompany him with the flute. The Warriors diversion had been accepted well. Meiser and Surnan even applauded. The others looked suitably impressed.

Dorothy gazed appraisingly at the slaves. "I knew there was real value in my _Parrerius Parvim_, (little sparrow/lovebird, i.e. Quatre) but these other four, you have done well cousin, despite your unorthodox ways." She crooned.

"They continue to surprise me." Treize admitted.

She laughed.

The dinner wore on. Conversation with the nobles was for the most part boring. Zechs spoke in hushed tones to Treize or not at all. To anyone who knew him it was clear he was uncomfortable. Treize tried to shield the reluctant prince from the disagreeable tangle of roman politics, but where lady Catalonia was, such things were bound to become an issue.

After his injury had ended his military career and he'd fallen out of the emperor's favor, Treize tried to stray out of politics. He was only half listening when Gwinter Septiem recounted, "Did you hear Tiberius caught sight of Agrippina in the marketplace?" As much as Treize personally distrusted the man, anything that happened with regard to the emperor's first heir was immediately noteworthy.

The mere mention of this particular incident had Bundt chuckling. "Poor love sick fool was mooning and panting after his ex-wife making a general spectacle of himself."

"Wasn't it Empress Livia that convinced Augustus to annul her son's marriage to join his step-son with his daughter?" Meiser frowned trying to sort out the various twisted branches of the imperial family tree.

"Yes," Gaintz confirmed. "Tiberius was forced to marry Julia the Elder, not that the emperors daughter isn't a prime catch," he tried to recover himself doubtlessly recalling Lady Dorothy was an acquaintance of the imperial princess, and in fact only managed to dig himself deeper when he announces "She isn't exactly what one looks for in a _faithful_ wife. She is too headstrong…too independent. She needs a strong hand and old Tiber isn't it."

"You think you possess such a strong hand Victor?" Dorothy smiled but Treize could feel the ice in his cousin's gaze. Julia was a friend and it was no secret the two were cut from the same cloth.

"Parhaps." Gaintz preened under the lady's attention oblivious to the threat in her tone.

"What Concerns me, is the line of succession," Lon Sernan mused aloud. "There is no denying Germanous would make the best heir."

The man had managed to light on the one subject that could catch Treize's attention. Most knew of his affiliation with the emperor's grandson though few were aware of the particular past they shared. "You aren't the only one." Treize found himself mumbling.

Lon continued, "My cousin who works in the palace overheard the emperor discussing the succession with Lady Livia. She only convinced him to name her son Tiberius as heir by playing on the Emperor's vanity. Augustus wants people to think well of him and miss him after he is gone. Tiberius is a dark little man, in spirit as well as in looks. No to mention, As Mr. Bundt has said, He hasn't exactly been what one would call stable since the emperor dissolved his first marriage.

"I can understand why the emperor fears Germanous' though. His rising star could well eclipse Caeser's own in greatness." Meiser chimed in. "So the throne goes first to Tiberius with Germanous to succeed him in turn. But in the mean time, Tiberius must accept Germanous, his strongest political rival, as his adopted son and heir. Such political intriguing does nothing to promote unity within the family...or the nation. I fully expect one to kill the other before too long. I don't know what the empress was thinking even to suggest such a thing."

"Idiot Women shouldn't be medalling with such things. Livia is so focused on securing a position for her first husbands son she is willing to make the man her enemy for life. If you ask me the old emperor should have just stuck with his second wife what was her name…Clodia? Muller frowned.

"Clodia was the emperor's first wife. Scribonia, was his second, Livia is his third." Lon Sernan volunteered helpfully ticking each off on his fingers.

"Whatever," Muller scoffed, "The point is the old man should have left Livia to her first husband. I mean Claudius Nero gave her away at the wedding like a father should…that is just bizarre."

"And how many wives have you had Leo?" Dorothy asked lacing her fingers together.

"Three, but it isn't my fault they can't seem to survive childbirth…I mean how hard can it be…it is why the gods gave us women after all." The man snorted.

"I'd like to see you try it." Meiser grumbled he had lost a wife in childbirth as well as a sister but unlike Muller he had been present both times and knew what the ordeal involved. Treize sympathized; he's lost his own mother…and baby brother…in the same way. A fact he didn't appreciate being reminded of over dinner.

It was a relief when the chime rang out to signify the final course.

Section 12B notes:

Roman Slaves have been called "the human props essential to the support of upper-class convivial comforts". As noted one of the duties slaves were expected to perform during a formal dinner was to provide 'dinner-theater' entertainment for the guests while they served: singing, playing musical instruments, reciting verse, dancing, acrobatics, and playing farce. Serving boys or girls dispensed the wine and food and attempted to look attractive doing so. Slaves were accepted as part of the banquet's course and were, as Dorothy alluded, sometimes considered part of the menu, They were simultaneously objectified and segregated from the real camaraderie of the meal. In a sense, they were performing puppets, subject to derision, degradation, abuse and punishment. How lucky our boys were to find a place in Treize's unorthodox household.

The eye's have it. Both men and women in ancient Egypt outlined the eyes with pigment to create an almond or feline shape. The tradition is well documented. But how many people know that eye-makeup served more than the dictates of fashion. Its primary function was protection. In fact the Egyptian word for eye-palette seems to derive from their word for "protect." And protect it did. The liner acted as a shield from the bright desert sun in the same way as the black worn by American football players. It warded off insects as well. But its most fundamental aspect was beleved to be mystical protection from those with ill intent. Eyes are the window to the soul thus outlining the eyes was a sort of personal protective amulet drawn right upon the skin. It was believed capable of turning away "the Evil Eye". Dorothy's so called suitors were already watching the boys with questionable intent. WuFei was well aware what he was walking into. Quatre, familiar with Egyptian traditions as he is with Persian ones, might have suggested the distinctive make-up as additional protection for the brooding dragon. And As Treize noted earlier WuFei's naturally exquisite eyes would have garnered him a different sort of attention. Making his a particularly well thought out disguise.

Apep / Isfet: In Egyptian mythology, Isfet was an evil demon, the deification of darkness and chaos the name later came to be falsely connected with a different root meaning 'he who was spat out' (Apep) The Romans referred to the god by this translation of his name apparently because 'spat out' was thought to mean he had been formed by Neith, (god of the primordial waters). Since Atum-Ra was the solar deity, bringer of light Apep was viewed as the greatest enemy of Ra and personification of all that was evil. Apep was depicted as a giant snake, crocodile, serpent, or in a few cases, as a dragon. And so the image is complementing WuFei's overall disguise.

Flash powder: The earliest ancestors of fireworks were paper or bamboo tubes filled with finely ground charcoal and sulfur used in China two thousand years ago in attempt to frighten away evil spirits. These tubes produced a flash of fire and smoke when ignited, but no explosion. True fireworks did not exist until saltpeter was added to the mixture to create black powder, the first chemical explosive, one thousand years later. Black powder was probably first made in China, but some scholars suggest that it may have been invented by the Arabs. Although WuFei's use of flash-powder in rome is defiantly ahead of his time the recipe is simple produced by mixing Sulfur, Charcoal, and Sugar – all easily obtainable resources in Rome at this time. Sulfur was imported from the Greek isle of Melanos, north of Crete where it was mined. It was used as a pigment in painting and also an instrumental ingredient in the bleaching of wool and making wicks for lamps. It was also believed to have countless medicinal/ magical properties. WuFei could have recognized it on marie's eye pallette amd obtained more from Sally for his display. Note: improper handling of flash powder can result in the fire from climbing the stream of powder back up to the hand of the person pouring it. Dragons are both intelligent and cautious creatures. They only flame under the proper conditions. In short, 'Don't try this at home kids.'

The political discussions: Don't stress about trying to figure out all the names and historical relationships, the suitors are just trying to prove they are 'in the know' when it comes to politics. Here is the interesting historical bits in brief

Tiberius will indeed become the next emperor after Augustus's death. He is described as being a dark and angry man. This likely had something to do with his mother and imperial step-father ruining his happy marriage and thrusting him into a loveless one with an unfaithful harridan for purely political reasons. To add insult to injury, the union also saddled him with a charismatic adopted son (Germanicus) that was everything he himself could never be.

Augustus did indeed joke that he named Tiberius his heir because he wanted people to miss him after he was gone. Not much of a recommendation is it? After Augustus death the military wanted Germanous to depose Tiberous and become Emperor. He refused. Several years later Tiberius is believed to have had Germanous poisoned, his brother Claudius becomes emperor after Tiberous and is succeeded inturn by Germanous' son whom history knows as 'Caligula.'

If you hadn't noticed, the suitors are miscellaneous characters, or relatives of those in the GW universe. I figure…why invent OC's when you can plug in those already in existence right?


	13. Dinner Party: Third Course

13 Dinner Party: Third course

"_Secundae Mensae," (_dessert_)_ Mariemaiasaid trying to stifle a yawn, "Assorted fruits and nuts, sweet buns and honey cake." She announced. Heero quickly removed the empty platters and brought in the last course. Quatre refilled the wine goblets then returned to his cushion. WuFei slipped back into the room and joined him there. Together they together resumed the musical entertainment.

The blonde played the lyre while WuFei sang. Singing…such a simple concept, even small children can do it. But it seemed a pale word to properly describe the tone and timbre the eastern youth produced and wove into spectacularly haunting melody. He began quietly at first; Treize found himself straining to catch the words. But there were none…at least, none that made sense to Latin ears. Still, that fact did not diminish one iota from the performance. In fact, it may have made the song all the more enchanting because of its obscurity. Not to mention It was the perfect counterpoint to the performance Duo and Trowa had planned.

Duo brought out two large barrel hoops several smaller ones and a few balls made from leather and rag. First he knelt and held out one of the hoops…And Trowa proceeded to dive through it landing in a somersault. Next he set the small hoops on the floor by his knees and held both of the larger hoops one in each hand out-stretched, shoulder width apart. Trowa took several hasty steps and vaulted through both rings. While still in his dive roll his hands lashed out to grab the smaller rings and when he came to his feet he began to juggle.

Duo reversed the two large rings so they hung around his wrists and began to spin them in opposite directions. The two performers faced one another Rings spinning and whizzing through the air. Then Trowa stretched one foot to kick one of the balls into the air to join the rings he juggled. Duo mirrored the move kicking a ball into the air, but instead of catching it with his hands he landed it on one upraised knee. He bumped it upward again to land on his head. All the while the rings orbited around his slim wrists. From his head the ball fell to the other knee then bouncing up and down making his braid dance he passed the ball from knee to knee.

Trowa added a second then a third ball passing them together with the four rings behind his back and over his shoulders. Duo occasionally tossed his ball to Trowa who returned it with one of his own. Never once did the spinning hoops falter. The braided boy worked them from wrist to elbow and back, Transferring them from one hand to the next and finally to orbit on opposite directions around his slim waist.

Trowa tossed him two of the smaller rings which the braided boy caught on his upraised wrists and they continued to revolve. There were so many objects spinning and whizzing through the air it was difficult to follow the two slaves got closer and closer to one another and just as their outstretched hands were about to touch the room was eclipsed in darkness, The light returned remove them scarcely a second later revealing Duo, Trowa, and each and every last ball and ring had disappeared without a trace

Treize was intelligent enough to realize it had gotten quite late by this time. The sudden darkness was Heero, WuFei and Quatre had surreptitiously dropped bowls over lamps lighting the room but the timing was such that most of the audience believed the darkness had been conjured even as WuFei's flashes of fire had been.

Everyone was impressed, with the exception of Mariemaia, who had fallen asleep. She seemed so peaceful and trucked up on the foot of Zechs couch with her face pillowed in one arm. She usually acted so mature it was easy to forget she was in fact still a very young girl. She had really outdone herself organizing this evening's entertainment and the slaves never ceased to amaze him. Treize reflected that the entertainment was, in fact, far better than the majority of his guests deserved. He hoped the spectacle would not inflame the gossipmongers to such an extent that it encouraged more 'guests' of similar ilk to come knocking at his door expecting. Treize sighed.

The sound of rapid footfalls in the hall jarred the noble from his thoughts moments before the double doors to the hall burst open. Revealing a slim woman in an unadorned white shift; her honey blonde hair had been cut to her chin but it curled wildly. She had obviously run a long way and began speaking before she had caught her breath "Mistress Dorothy…Lady Julia… the words came out between gasps. "The emperor is not pleas…." She continued then her cornflower eyes widened considerably when they came suddenly to rest on the supine form of Zechs. Her face went ashen and her hand went to her gaping mouth, _"Min Mildeherra!"_ She gasped, Then her demeanor changed radically, her gaze hardened hands falling to bunching into fists. She took two hasty strides forward, fire in her eyes and fervor in her voice as she exclaimed. _"Britta Boren Brēostceare!" _

At her threatening stance the sound of metal rang out, Heero and WuFei seemingly materializing out of nowhere, swords drawn in defense of the nobles they had sworn to protect. The openly aggressive action seemed to jar the woman to her senses some. She tried to back away from the drawn weapons and succeeded only in knocking over the crater of wine. The mosaic tiles became slick and she scrambled about awkwardly. "_Forgiefene Frēomǽg Forgiefe!" _The woman cried tears streaking her face now as she turned and hastily ran out the door as mysteriously as she came_._

"What was that all about?" Muller demanded.

"Obviously there will be no _comissatio_ this evening. One can not have a wine course without wine." Treize motioned to the broken pottery and growing puddle as he rose to his feet. "In the wise words of Horace, "_Lusisti satis, edisti satis atque bibisti;_ _tempus abire tibi est._" The noble declared walking toward the door. It was a calculated move purposefully drawing the attention away from his stunned aid-de-camp. (You have amused yourself, eaten and drunk enough: it is now time for you to depart.)

Zechs was ashen. Dorothy had noticed though Treize was reasonably sure his cousin had never learned her mother's tongue and would doubtless require a full explanation. Her suitors however were too busy grumbling amongst themselves to notice anything else as he hastily ushered them from the room.

"I bid you good evening gentlemen." He said abruptly. Nicol Mieser was the only one to bow and give his regrets to lady Dorothy before parting and Lon Sernan made sure to thank Treize for a memorable evening. The rest only balked and sputtered about indignity as they were escorted out.

Section 12C notes:

Trowa was doing circus tricks, no surprise there…Duo was working with hula hoops and a hacky-sack…not period, but as I see it, definitely in character.

------------------

In response to the very thoughtful review by Airezi I have decided to clarify a bit more about languages and how I use them. The original language of Rome was indeed Latin. However there were different dialects in use for different purposes.

The first is referred to as 'Vulgar Latin' and was the language spoken by ordinary people, after the decline of the Roman Empire, it diverged into the various Romance languages such as Italian, French, Romanian, Spanish, and Portuguese… since I am American therefore pretty much monolingual. I represent this by using English.

The second is "Classical Latin" the formal literary dialect used in poetry and prose of the day. As I figure it this would have been the formal speech used by the upper-class and people who wanted to make a point. I use actual Latin phrases and terms in this facility. generally gleaned from a very helpful book entitled 'How to use Latin to your own advantage and to the astonishment of others" by Eugene Ehrlich or the glossary of 'teach your self Latin' by Gavin Betts.

The third is a dialect is that which was used in the city of Rome known as Romanesco, a southern Italian dialect, very close to Neapolitan. I suspect this would have been the 'street language' thus it is represented by Duo-slang and various convenient. 'Americanisms'

Incidentally the Anglo-Saxon I use it represent the northern 'barbarian dialects' comes from the glossaries of "A guide to old English by Mitchell and Robinson and 'Sweets Anglo-Saxon Reader' revised by D. Whitelock…anything Chinese or Japanese is taken from various internet sources.

------------

Alliteration in Anglo-Saxon: rhyme and reason The most commonly studied traditions of alliterative verse are those found in the oldest literature of many Germanic languages. In various forms, it is widely found in the literary traditions of the early Germanic languages. The Old English epic Beowulf, as well as most other Old English poetry, the Old High German Muspilli, the Old Saxon Heliand, and the Old Norse Poetic Edda all use alliterative verse. My attempt is mere doggerel since I have an imperfect understanding of the language…but the lines do trip rather cleanly off the tongue of you give it a try.

_Min Mildeheorra__: _literal translation = My Merciful Lord … she could be naming Zechs (Mildeheorra is close to Milliardo after all and word play is fun) or She could simply use the term as an exclamation to higher powers, in shock of seeing him there.

_Britta Boren Brēostceare:_literal translation = One who gives/Giver of, someone/anyone born into the same family, grief of heart. Yeah our wayward prince might speak the language but that doesn't mean he knows what she is talking about here.

_Frēomǽg Forgiefene Forgiefe,_literal translation = Noble kinsmen/Ancestors, Forgiveness, give.

This part is equally obscure, Kinsmen could mean Zechs…could mean Quatre… could mean countless generations of noble dead. She did just interupt a noble's dinner party then spills a tremendous amount of wine on the floor…then flee without giving the message she had come to. It is conceivable that is what she is asking for forgiveness for… conceivable…but unlikely.–See my evil grin--


	14. Aftershocks

Chapter 14 Aftershocks

When both door and gate were closed and bolted behind the unwanted guests Treize turned leaning his back against the door and heaved a sigh of relief. Only then did he notice Heero and WuFei flanking him, swords still in hand, incase the interlopers offered more than token resistance.

"Thank you." Treize smiled weakly at the boys.

"There is still…that woman." Heero remarked. And the noble wondered just what WuFei HAD told the others, with regard to his relations with his cousin.

"Hm." Treize nodded thoughtfully. "I expect she will be leaving shortly as well."

Both slaves looked relieved but said nothing as they returned together to the hall.

Trowa was gathering the dirty plates and uneaten food from the tables Quatre was busy cleaning up the spilled wine. Duo knelt to retrieve the panther cub that had been concealed in a wicker basket beneath the table. Cutting the evening short had meant that they wouldn't need Nanashi to conclude the night's entertainment…which was perhaps for the best. Trowa had not had much time with the young panther and having it perform within sight and smell of food might have been problematic. Not that what _had_ happened was any less so, but at least _that_ had been something beyond Treize couldn't be held responsible for.

"Ugg, Fuzz butt…you are soaked--" Duo wrinkled his upturned nose, setting the cub down on the table and grabbed a towel to dry him off. Gazing into dilated blue eyes he made a startling discovery "--And drunk."

"Impossible." WuFei growled.

Then the black cub took a few wobbly steps tail swinging in large loops and promptly fell over.

TROWA!" WuFei called just as the beast lord was returning from ferrying the leftovers to the kitchen.

"What is it?" the green-eyed youth asked wiping his hands of his tunic.

"Nanashi's basket was right in the way of the spill. He was most likely trying to clean his fur and…" Heero explained.

"He's drunk." Duo giggled then tried to look straight-faced caressing the creature's ears. "Poor little guy."

"Don't set him on the table. If he falls off he might hurt himself." Trowa cautioned.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" WuFei asked unable to hide the concern in his voice.

"He can't have had too much…but it might be best if he stays upstairs with us tonight. That way we can check on him. Perhaps Lady Une will let us have one of the crates in the store room to use as a temporary pen. I'll give him a bowl of fresh water and some soft bedding. he should be fine after he sleeps it off." Trowa explained logically.

"I expect he'll have a hangover in the morning." Duo remarked with a smirk.

"He might at that." Trowa agreed with a nonchalant shrug.

"Have you ever had one?" Heero asked curiously.

Duo made a motion like he was locking his lips and throwing away the key; a testament to his commitment to always tell truths. He wasn't saying anything at all…lest it incriminate him.

Trowa wasn't so reticent, "There was a time I could have indulged in such things, food, wine, companionship … favorites in the Circus Maximus are offered anything they desire. … I think I was too young for it to hold much appeal though. And of course, I saw what happened when Master Barton overindulged." He explained, then asked, "You?"

"I was a champion in the arena it is true but Scissori are kept to a _different _regime." Heero admitted with a slight frown. "The only reward I fought for was the opportunity to sleep in the next morning. Odin took me to an open field once and just let me run. It made me…feel strange…he said drinking in too much sky made me giddy. I still don't understand what he meant though."

"Some of the older students in our temple thought it was funny to steal the masters' Shaoxing wine (yellow rice wine) and get the youngest slaves intoxicated. I do not recommend it…for man or beast." WuFei admitted quietly.

"Wise words Wu-wu." Duo whispered, cuddling the young panther to his chest.

"Wu-FEI!" the obsidian eyed youth growled through grit teeth. "I know you can manage two simple syllables."

Duo laughed and the others just rolled their eyes.

----------------

Quatre was so distracted with his own thoughts he was oblivious to the interplay among his fellows. The presence of his former mistress had unsettled him from the beginning. He was relived he hadn't been expected to do anything more involved than play. Then, considering how things had turned out he doubted he could even do that much had Treize not called an early end to the festivities. "M-miss Dorothy W-wasn't that Irea?" The little blonde faltered under Lady Catelonia's pale blue gaze. "What did she want? Did you instruct her to interrupt so you could leave early?"

Dorothy gave the boy her patented 'who, me…would _I_ do that?' look, but the little blonde knew her too well to be swayed by it in the least. He ignored it and continued on, "What happened? I-I don't think I've never seen her act so flustered that before."

"Nor have I." Dorothy frowned thoughtfully. "I've always thought her one of grandmother's more level headed ladies-in-waiting. But I couldn't understand a word she said. _Minae Mille Heri,_ (latin) what is that supposed to mean…I don't see the sense in proclaiming 'a thousand yesterdays' as 'wonderful' poor girl has clearly lost her mind.

"You are mistaken Dorothy dear, She said _Min Mildeherra,"_ The northern tongue slipped easily from Treize's lips as if he was long acquainted with it "Unless I am mistaken It means Merciful lord," he explained. Zechs nodded sullenly.

Dorothy's gaze was one of surprise and confusion, a clear indication that her sun-bright hair was the only thing she inherited from her Germani born mother. That was something he could use to his advantage. _"Đīnen ap þīn ciþþ?"_ (The handmaiden she is your kin?)

His faithful second gave a resolute nod and sighed.

Treize knew that look all too well._ "Mōdcearu Seax, Oflongan hāmlond." _Your heart grieves Zechs. You miss your homeland.) Zechs tried to forget he was a foreign prince; a Peescræft among the roman's to seal a treaty with his father's people. So much had happened since he'd left his northern home. It felt like a lifetime ago. But it didn't take much for memory to come thundering back; and this instance was stressing him to his limits.

"I haven't seen Arri since I was a child." He admitted quietly. Her words stung and the hurt was made more potent from being delivered in his native tongue. "She…she said I brought grief to my family and begged forgiveness of our ancestors. She…she is your sister Quatre, do you know why she should have such cause to hate me?" he asked, pain obvious in his voice.

"My sister?" Sapphire eyes widened in astonishment. Quatre was so stunned by the declaration he didn't even notice his hand moving of its own accord to rub away the sympathetic pain in his chest. The little blonde shook his head. "I never knew…She never said…anything. Before you told me we were cousins I didn't think I had any family at all. Why would Irea hide something like that?" Quatre asked.

"I don't know." Zechs whispered hugging his arms to his chest. There was no denying the distress tingeing his voice, "I don't know…but perhaps we should find out."

"What you should do is get some sleep my friend. It is late and there is no help for it at the moment." Treize tried to redirect the conversation. "We all need to get some rest and decide what to do in the morning." His eyes met Zechs' as he tried to gauge whether his friend would be all right until then.

"Well that is my cue to leave." Dorothy announced shrilly so all in the room could hear the declaration. "I know I've overstayed my welcome. There is still a chance that mislaid maidservant will show up before morning; If not grandmother will make me buy her a new one. Olympus knows she is so particular it takes forever to find one she gets along with tolerably well; and of course they must be blonde…Such a trial!" She held the back of her hand to her brow. "If I learn anything interesting I'll send word…Or drop by unannounced, as the mood strikes me." She grinned cheekily, "Good night Cousin Janis. Good night all." Treize scoffed at the hated nickname and the diabolical blonde was still chuckling as she swept airily from the room.

"Onnas" WuFei grumbled in her wake.

---------------------------------------------

.  
Perhaps an hour later Quatre crept silently into his master's chambers.

The sight that greeted him was not altogether unexpected but it still made his breath hitch in his throat none the less. Treize lay sprawled on the sumptuous _Lecius cubicularis (bedstead) _arms flung wide, a thin sheet twining about his midsection dead asleep with a slight smile ghosting across his noble features. The reason for the smile was evident. Wufei knelt beside the man, eyes closed seemingly lost in his own thoughts as his skilled fingers kneaded the supple flesh of his master's back and shoulders.

"F-fei" Quatre's voice was quiet and hesitant. He was well aware startling the other youth from his revere would likely disturb his master as well. In his experience nobles were invariably surly upon waking. Quatre was not eager to give any master…even one as kind as Treize had been thus far, a reason to discipline them. "WuFei," he whispered again clutching his harp close to his chest as he drew steadily closer.

"Winner." The other youth's eyes were silted sleepily almost cat-like and his voice practically purred. "I thought we agreed I would keep master's chamber this night. My sleeping things are set on the couch in the antechamber for a reason."

"I, you…well…um." The blonde's brow furrowed in frustration as his normally articulate manner left him stammering. He closed his eyes, and wrangled his thoughts back into submission, before continuing. "The others agreed that since we two have prior experience as chamber slaves it would be the best if we took turns attending Master Treize until the rest learn how to do so. I didn't mind that you volunteered to go first. I understand you wanted to confirm the result of the healing techniques you used on him this afternoon. But now you have done so…and…and Master Zechs--" the blondes eyes shifted to the beautifully woven rug beneath his bear feet. "--He needs you too."

"What do you mean?" Dark eyes glinted in the timid lamp light and he carefully eased himself off the bed and retreated several steps so their conversation would not disturb the sleeping noble.

"Similar to the way Duo can tell when someone is lying I can sense things too. It is a gift I've always had and thanks to Zechs I am beginning to understand why. He knows more about my past than I do. He is my cousin…and Irea, the slave that confronted him this evening, was my sister, I can't understand the language my sister spoke but I know her words hurt him deeply. I can feel his pain. Just being near him sears my soul." Quatre rubbed at his chest. "He should not be alone tonight. You told us that after He and Master Treize gave us an area of our own where we could have privacy you offered him a place in our refuge in return. He needs it now but is afraid to ask, afraid the others won't accept him as readily as you did, especially if you aren't there. If you take my bed and let him have yours I think he would not refuse the offer."

WuFei's gaze lingered on the form of his sleeping master. It certainly didn't look as if he would wake anytime before dawn but one never knew. "Y-You'll look after Treize?" he asked quietly.

"Of course!" Quatre beamed.

"You won't leave for anything?" the eastern slave reiterated.

"I DO know my duty Chang WuFei," Quatre couldn't completely suppress the peevish frown, but there was a playfulness in his tone that made the other boy smile. "Do you seek to impugn my honor?! Quatre demanded"

"Of course not Quatre-jūn…to do so would be unjust." WuFei announced and gave the blonde a formal bow. "I will take my leave now." Matching action to words he retrieved his blanket pillow and sword from the couch.

"Do so." Quatre said and surprised the other boy by mirroring his bow. "Good night WuFei-jun and thank you."

"Rest well little cat." WuFei nudged his arm gently before turning toward the door.

"Um, Fei?" the blonde's uncertain voice called him back.

"What is it?" the other youth encouraged.

"Did you really do what that awful Mueller said? Did you actually bite his friend?" The blond asked his cheeks scarlet with embarrassment.

"Yes, yes I did." WuFei admitted unashamed. "Alex was a louse who enjoyed seeing me humiliated and helpless. I did the only thing I could to prove I was neither--Then I ran."

"But the penalties for doing such a thing…" Quatre hugged himself at the thought.

"I know Cat. Mueller was correct in his assessment that no one has kept me for more than few scant months since Ambassador Ron was killed. I've lost track of the number of times I've been bought and sold. I've been wagered and lost in games of chance and even been given away a few times. Being passed from hand to hand like that left me feeling used and dirty. Alex preyed on those feelings and I couldn't let him get away with it. I knew I couldn't really escape. This isn't even my country. I hoped they would kill me."

"I'm glad they did not." Quatre whispered.

"Me too Cat, me too," WuFei reflected and slipped silently from the room.

"I wish you much happiness Chang WuFei, you deserve it." Quatre whispered though he knew the other boy could no longer hear him. He carefully snuffed out the lamp before curling up in his own blanket and snuggled down onto the couch the other boy had abandoned.

He lay in darkness for some time. Even here Quatre could vaguely sense the three tailed lash of his cousin's distress flicking about the edges of his psyche. Likewise he was aware when Zechs nervousness and pain began to subside. Quatre smiled to himself His plan was working. Content in the knowledge he let the balm of Somnus ease him gently into the realm of dream.

Section 14 notes

Alcohol and Cats. Exposing animals to alcohol is never a good idea and can cause serious health hazards. Even a small amount can make a cat or other small animal very ill. It can cause kidney damage or even death if not treated quickly as their small body weight can not handle the amount of alcohol in them. Just a few sips for a cat or small dog may be equivalent to a full glass of wine for a person. Undiluted spirits such as whisky are more likely to be fatal than say a sneaky few sips of a glass of wine or a vodka and coke. Luckily most wine during this time was mixed with water and spices so the result of Nanashi's dip is nothing worse then I described. Still it is interesting that this chapter is the one up for posting today since my own Felis catus passed peacefully from this life just this morning. (No alcohol was involved) She came to me as a stray and has been a faithful friend for 16 years. Rest well little girl, you will be sorely missed.  
-------------

Alcohol in ancient China was regarded as a sacred liquid and was used when people made sacrificial offerings to the Heaven and the Earth and as part of funerary rights. Ancient, still liquid wine from 3000 years was found in sealed bronze containers in a grave excavated in western china. It has been identified as containing specialized rice or millet, flavored with herbs, flowers, and possibly tree resins. A variety of molds may have been used to break down the ingredients. A similar method to that used today.

I was originally going to say the acolytes stole sake but that is Japanese, and WuFei is indubitably from Chang'an. Shaoxing wine is considered the most ancient yellow rice wine in China. It is named after the province in northeastern Zhejiang. Modern-day Shaoxing sits on the site of the capital of the Spring and Autumn Period Kingdom of Yue. Around the sixth century BC, the Yue ruling elite fought a number of wars against its northern archrival Kingdom of Wu Both kingdoms were masters of metallurgy, fabricating excellent swords, with incised messages, geometric patterns and inlaid gold or silver; Linguists point out possible similarities and links between the Japanese language and the Wu dialect that may be indicative of ancient connections between the two. Anyone think this may be one more connection to explain both our Fei's facility with languages and his affinity for swords?

-----------------

Pronunciation Note: _'__Đīnen ap þīn ciþþ"_the Anglo-Saxon letter 'Thorn' is written "_Đ_" or "_þ_" and sometimes đ it makes the 'Th' sound. The word 'ciþþ' is equivilent to the word found in Middle English idiom _'kith and kin'_, ie family and extended family. In later years printers fell back to using the runic form 'y' since it was the closest they had in the Roman alphabet. So when you see the horror that is "Ye Olde Shoppe" the 'Y' is a Thorn and the e's were silent so it STILL would have been pronounced 'the old shop' sorry it's a pet peeve of mine. People pronounce all the letters and look so superior doing it…makes me want to slap them. 'Ye' is the archaic 2nd person singular objective pronoun that has since been replaced by 'you'. 'You old shop' equally makes no sense. Sorry, climbing off soap box now.

-------------------------

Arri:my take on the original Germanic form of Quatre's sister's name. Arri is an Anglo-Saxon name linked to the more familiar term Arian, which prior to the stigma it acquired during WWII meant 'farmer' so in this sense think one known for animal husbandry and care-giving. Not that this is terribly relevant to the story as it stands at present but you know where my thought process was taking me. It wasn't just that the two sounded similar.

---------------------------

In most roman households the bedroom's primary furnishing was the _Lecius cubicularis (literally 'couch of the lair') _in its simplest form it was _a _small wooden bed open on all sides usually with of some slight padding, possibly filled with dry herbs hay. In richer households the mattress might be stuffed with fleece or feathers and supported on a ropes or slats in a frame rather than solid wood. Treize's bed was a bit more extravagant still as befitting a noble of high rank. For one his would be higher from the ground than the common sort requiring steps placed beside it.. The feet of a Noble's beds may be constructed of silver or gold and some possessed backboard/s of costly kinds wood decorated with tortoise-shell or ivory; Treize's Lectius was of the type that had a desk like attachment to the headboard permitting the occupant to study or write correspondence before turning in for the night. Blankets in the houses of wealthy Romans were costly generally of a purple color and embroidered with beautiful figures in gold. The pillows were likewise covered with magnificent cases.

-------------------------

Somnus: The Roman god of sleep, a translation of the Greek Hypnos. According to myth He resided in Erebos, the land of eternal darkness, beyond the gates of the rising sun. From there he rose into the sky each night in the train of his mother Nyx (Night).


	15. Double Duty

Chapter 15 Double Duty

WuFei made his way up the narrow stair to the slave's quarters above the west wing of the villa. About halfway up he was met by a sweet yet strong aroma. It immediately brought to mind the incense in the temples of his homeland yet the fragrance was as alien as most everything in the godforsaken country. Had he been paying more attention to his comrades earlier when he had returned to the garden he might have recognized the scent of pine. But at the time he had been too agitated by the Catalonia woman's arrival and his mind had whirled with the ramifications and complications the event doubtlessly incurred.

Even now he was still largely occupied with his recent conversation with Quatre and thoughts for his sleeping master. He only registered the oddity of the scent and progressed toward his appointed goal. The door to the guardroom Zechs called his own was atop the stairs and the slave quarters further along the hall.

WuFei could hear mingled laughter, doubtlessly the result of some scheme the braided baka had come up with. How Duo could compel trained warriors to act as careless as children was clearly beyond him; though, if what Quatre had said was true, the sound alone might have been enough to tempt Zechs to join them.

He rapped his knuckles lightly on the door and waited for a response. There was none. He tried again, a bit harder this time, still nothing. "Zechs?" he called quietly lifting the latch and pushing his way inside.

The big blonde was seated in the middle of his bedstead facing away from the door. His movements were jerky and rough as he practically raked a comb through his unruly locks. The tines of the comb caught a snag practically jerking the man's head sideways. Zechs grunted pulling a bit harder rather than using his other hand in attempt to loose the tangle. It seemed the angry snarls mirrored the confused thoughts running riot in his mind and the blonde wasn't having much luck with either. WuFei felt compelled to step in "Stop," He directed moving to wrest the comb deftly from the man's hand.

Zechs only half glanced over shoulder, stormy blue eyes peering through uneven bangs to regard WuFei. The fact that man had not noticed his presence sooner was a clear indication his state of distraction.

"You have people to do this for you now." The young slave expounded "Come." Not giving him any opportunity to refuse, he grabbed Zechs hand and pulled him into the common room where the other slaves lounged.

"Help me." WuFei instructed and before Zechs knew what was happening he was ensconced on a pile of cushions having his hair tented to. It only followed that Duo was the most proficient choice to assist such a duty. Having long hair himself he knew how to care for it. The braided youth positioned himself behind Zechs and fell to working out the tangles carding the silken strands with agile fingers.

Though he only used it sparingly, the comb was a source of fascination for the violet eyed lad. It was constructed from a section of deer antler and hinged so the tines of the comb folded neatly into the handle for protection. Duo opened and closed the tool several times till he could do so with a quick flick of the wrist. "I like it" He grinned manically.

"My father made it for me," Zechs responded quietly, almost dreamily, as memory sought to snatch his attention from the here and now. "The antler was from a reindeer I took down in my first hunt. It seems so long ago." He shivered and drew his knees up against his chest once more.

Trowa was sitting closest to the small brazier that warmed the room and recognizing the tension in other man's posture moved to place another pinecone on the fire. WuFei noted the remains of several others still smoldering within. It was easy to recognize the source the sweet fragrance he's noted earlier.

Trowa's movements were slight, merely pivoting at the waist so as not to disturb the little panther lying with its head on his knee. Nanashi seemed content with the lanky beast master caressing his velvety fur but every so often the cub would growl and sniffle, voicing his dissatisfaction with life in general before going back to dozing by the fire.

WuFei wondered about the pinecones and sent a silent query to the soft-spoken slave.

"I've heard the stone pine was originally native to the province of Hispania (spain)" Trowa explained. "But now you find them across the empire. Any town large enough to have coliseum, amphitheatre or arena will likely have a grove as well. Most gladiators like to keep a supply of the cones on hand because we find their effects calming."

Heero wasn't quite so conservative in his response and elaborated in his characteristic monotone, "The smoke overwhelms the scent of blood and death and makes it easier to sleep."

Duo translated that to mean. "Our He-Man's been feelin' a might homesick. Tro-e had Kitty-Q, Marie and me collect some because he thought it 'ud help."

Zechs nodded his silent agreement, though to which part it was in response to was less than clear. Whether it was Duo's fussing with his hair, the effects of the fragrant smoke, or both, the man's breathing had deepened and did seem less agitated.

"In my country there are certain plants that produce similar effect. The ancient master Shen Nung's compiled a list of over 300 plants and their uses. I wonder if your stone pine or some close relative was among them," WuFei mused

"You know, I heard the emperor was collecting all sorts of writings and putting them in the old temple of Apollo. Word on the street was he planned to open it up for any who wanted in. Granted I didn'a pay much attention to the specifics since I can't barely read as it is. But you might find it interesting." The urchin volunteered as he artfully untangled a particularly large knot of corn-silk at the nape of Zechs neck.

"Hmm," WuFei nodded surprised the urchin would know him well enough not just to realize that he would value such knowledge…but care enough to share it. The braided urchin might be eternally running at the mouth, but he listened too. That was an important thing to remember that Duo deserved the same courtesy. "What were you doing before we came in?" the eastern youth asked.

"Playin'" Duo drawled finally finished with Zechs hair he smoothed it down with a final caress. "Its Heero's turn isn't it?"

Heero grumbled something intelligible then sighed and moved to kneel before a pile of long pine needles.

Trowa gave the two newcomers a brief rundown of the game. "The objective is to remove a single pine-needle without disturbing any of the others." The lanky beast-lord had already accumulated a small pile of needles extricated from the whole and Duo was obviously already a master of the game.

"Our Hero's new to the concept of subtlety but he's starting to get the hang of it," Duo explained in a stage whisper. It was quite amusing to note how the tip of the gladiator's tongue protruded from the corner of his mouth in concentration as he zeroed in on his target and sought to extract it from among its brethren. Heero was so intense, any more so and it seemed as if his cobalt stare would make the pine needles curl if not catch flame outright. In the end his mission was a success and set the single needle apart from the others, a triumphant grin on his normally stoic face.

"Good job Hero! Way to go! Why don't you go next Z," Duo encouraged lightly. "Then Fei-Fei can have his turn."

WuFei growled at the nickname but encouraged the blonde to try his hand at the game.

Zechs leaned forward elbows on knees seemingly stunned by the invitation. WuFei wasn't surprised. At no time during his prior experience as a slave would he have even considered freely associating with an overseer; but this place …these people…this life, was different. Surely Zechs could sense that too. The blonde met the gaze of the other four boys and saw only acceptance reflected there. With a slight smile he slipped off the pile of cushions and dropped to one knee to study the pile of needles. He chose one near the edge and began to slowly ease it from the others. He almost had it free when several atop it slid. He sighed in resignation…taking note he had been holding his breath prior.

"That's all right, you'll do better next time." Surprisingly it was Heero who made the comment. WuFei suspected the intense warrior was merely mimicking what the others had said earlier after his own lack of success. But the comment served to relax the blonde further. Zechs returned his needle to the top of the pile and retreated to let WuFei have a go.

The former slave rubbed his hands together and shook out the stress in his fingers in preparation. True he had been a solitary dragon most of his life but there had been a time when several of his peers in Chang'an convinced him to _borrow_ the master's _Chien tung_ sticks in attempt to divine what path the gods had appointed them. The end result of their childish attempts at playing fortune teller had been a similar game to this but that had been a long time ago. And as Duo had said with regard to Yuy, he had little use for subtlety.

Thinking of those impudently stolen sticks he told the others, "In my county we use spilled sticks to divine the future, tell me Zechs, what has made our master so hostile towards the gods." He asked as he carefully studied the pile.

"How did you…" The blonde began then nodded, "Dorothy mentioned it didn't she." He sighed. "It isn't something Treize speaks of often but that hardly prevents others from doing so. You might have noticed Mariemia wore the _toga praetexta_ to dinner this evening, as is expected of all noble roman children. But she does not wear a bulla." Seeing all but Duo looked confused he went on to explain, "It's a hollow gold or leather amulet to protect children from the machinations of the gods till they come of age. Girls traditionally wear the charm until they marry when they become their husband's responsibility. Boys come of age on the 16th or 17th day of the month of Mars during the fourteenth year of life. They seal stubble from their first shave or a lock of hair into the charm and place it on the alter of _liber Pater_ during the _Liberalia_ festival as a signal that they are to be looked upon as adults.

"So this would be the year of our coming of age?" Trowa reasoned softly.

"Depending of the month of your birth yes," Zechs nodded. "It is usually a big deal. But when Treize attained his majority there was no big celebration. Both his parents had already died and he was alone. He went to make the offering because he knew it was what they would have wanted. Unfortunately his journey home brought him near the _Grove of Simila_ during the exact time woman were deep in the troughs of the _bacchanalia_. And whether taken with wine or possessed of a troublesome spirit the _Bachii_ descended on him en mass.

"A daughter of House Barton was the leader of the pack and the things they did to him were far from honorable. There was little he could do in his own defense." Zechs eyed Trowa briefly knowing that, having been owned by the Bartons, the green eyed boy would be equally familiar with the nature of that powerful senatorial family. "Nine months later little Marian was born and her mother declared to all she was drawn from the blood of Kushrenada's young lord. It was scandal of the highest caliber and despite the fact that Leia was so much older, there were few who accepted Treize had not been at fault in the matter." Zechs shook his head.

"So he's angry that the gods let it happen?" WuFei nodded. He understood having had his own period of cursing his fate and railing at the gods. But things were beginning to look up so he couldn't believe the spirit of Shenlong had abandoned him altogether. He had been able to remove three needles from the pile but the forth had jarred one from the top so he yielded his turn to Duo.

"He refuses to honor any god that uses people as playthings for their own amusement." Zechs clarified. "And the gods of Valhalla are as guilty of that as those that hail from Olympus."

WuFei nodded "The same can be said of the immortals who inhabit the palace of the Jade Emperor.' WuFei nodded solemnly his mind ghosting back to the duel he had shared with his master the previous day. He had been used and abused so often it was an awe inspiring contrast to receive courtesy and care from one's superior. Treize was noble in spirit as well as blood it was almost like he seemed more parent than Master. As strange as the man's actions seemed, they made more sense now. Perhaps the man treated those beneath him the way wished the immortals regarded humans. Not as tools or play things but treasured children. It was a moment of eye opening revelation… which Duo managed to shatter completely.

The braided boy--supposedly in attempt to make the game more fair--retrieved his needles standing on one foot with one eye closed, his tongue curled and one finger in his ear. In addition to acquiring six pine needles while leaving the pile undisturbed…he made the arena fighters smile. Which WuFei suspected had been his real goal all the time. Then it was Trowa's turn.

The beast-lord was a natural, despite having a dozing panther cub in his lap his pile of needles grew at an alarming rate. Duo watched with speculation in his violet eyes. You know Tro…I realize you've got that whole silent and deadly thing going for ya…but if bein' a slave don't pan out, you'd make a first class cut-purse…or maybe a cat-burglar. Cat…get it?" Duo waved at Nanashi.

The green eyed boy snorted his quiet semblance of a laugh. "I'll remember that."

"I'm not hearing this." Zechs flopped down on one of the piles of cushions. His gaze drifted around the sitting area WuFei and the boys had artfully created in the front portion the slave quarters. He was growing more and more at ease. Thoughts of his faraway homeland and distant kin faded from his mind as he enjoyed the company he kept. Conversation meandered aimlessly. Never resting on ant one topic for long, they laughed and sighed. The pile of pine needles in the center dwindled slowly and the night stretched out, eventually sleep made minds and fingers too numb to continue.

There had been no words to mark the event, The sleeping panther cub was transferred to a nest of blankets inside a crate and in less time than any would have thought the five humans followed in suit, seeking out the nearest convenient pile of cushions and relaxing into the seductive arms of oblivion.

Section 15 Notes

Thanks to a Thoughtful question by Nalamacleod last chapter I thought to qualify the duties of a chamber slave as opposed to a bed slave. I probably don't need to tell you there are many fics out there that that exist solely for the purpose of illustrating the slave's purpose as warming the master's bed. It happened but wasn't as prevalent as people seem to think. Still I would be remiss if I ignored the fact that historically speaking there are plenty of other duties that require a slave's presence in the master's chamber. From early childhood nobles come to rely on others to do things for them. They have servants/attendants at their beck and call 24/7. Treize is more self-sufficient than most but as a roman noble he grew up in a household teeming with servant and slaves. After his father's death he made a point of systematically letting them go. Some few freed slaves and servants that had belonged to his father remain under Une's dominion in the kitchens and bathhouse. Zechs had been picking up the slack as best he could but Treize was well aware it was a duty well beneath princely station. Zechs didn't mind but it bothered Treize (this was illustrated way back in the first chapter) Now that the five are available they could do such things.

A good servant is inconspicuous till they are needed then move quickly to do what ever is asked day or night. As former house servants Quatre and WuFei were more acquainted with the sorts of things a noble might require, it might be a quick dash to the kitchens for a midnight snack, or the odious task of emptying a chamber pot. A servant might be called to Play soothing music to banish nightmares, fetch an extra blanket in cold weather, a glass of water, or simply listen while the master complains about the stresses of the day. The main point is they were readily available should anything happen. After the renaissance and into to modern times nobles became a bit more privacy minded. Systems of bells were utilized to summon servants at need. Even as some larger houses today have intercom systems to serve the same function but simply keeping a servant close at hand was a much simpler solution especially in the early days. Making a rotation of who was 'on call', let them have some time off to themselves.

-------------------------

The comb was similar to several I saw on display in York England. They were of Viking origin and dated between the 9th y and 10th century A.D. yet it their construction strangely reminiscent of modern combs designed along the lines of a switch blade or butterfly knife. It seemed fitting.

The library established by Augustus was called the Bibliotheca Apollinis Palatini, The building was large enough for meetings of the senate. It was divided into two sections one for Greek and one for Latin works. and it also housed a school.

The Stone Pine, Pinus pinea is a conifer native to the Iberian Peninsula. As noted in the text it was often planted near the local amphitheatre in foreign countries. The aromatic pinecones were traditionally burnt in bowls called tazze to mask the smell of the arena. The mature needles duo was using to play pick-up-sticks can get up to 8 inches long;

Stick games are ancient and prevalent in all cultures. The Greek historian Herodotus wrote that he had seen the game played by the Scythians in 450 BC. They would have been known played in Rome as well as Germanic tribes such as Zechs as well. Sadly being raised as a prince our blonde didn't have time to engage in such things. As stated in the text "Chien Tung" or 'emperor sticks' were closely tied to divination In China (and Japan) where a handful of sticks were scattered to base the reading of destiny. This practice eventually developed into a gambling game. In Japan the game is known as "Mikado"…which was also an archaic name for 'emperor.'

The Liberalia (17 March) It would have been a sad time for Treize who had lost both his parents by this time. March 16 and 17 were the dates of the Bacchanalia where women (bachii) go into frenzy. Dorothy alluded to the fact that Treize was attacked by these women when he traveled home from the temple and 9 months later Mariemaia Barton was born to a much older Lealia Barton who made no secret about what she and her companions had done to initiate the young Khushrenada heir into manhood. It was one reason why Treize sued for, and was granted the _Ius Liberorum_. This is also my explanation for questionable statements Treize makes about God in the series


	16. Interrupted

Chapter 16 Interrupted

It was still quite some time before dawn when Quatre's uncanny abilities brought him back to consciousness. At first he thought it was Zechs projecting while he was lost in some dream. But no. this presence was darker and slippery. What is more it did not belong in his master's villa and it certainly did not belong in the hall just beyond the sleeping chamber. Just as the thought registered fully banishing the last vestiges of sleep from his mind, the door opened silently and a figure entered--a silvery gleam in one hand.

'Knife!' Quatre's senses screamed and then he was moving; diving off the sleeping couch and rolling across the floor. The intruder literally tripped over him, biting back a curse as he stumbled to his knees. Instinctively Quatre snatched the letter opener that lay on the backboard of his masters bed then pounced on the figure supine on the rug. The air whooshed out of the strangers lungs as Quatre landed on his back driving him to the floor once more. Holding the letter opener to the man's throat he hissed in his most venomous tone "Don't move."

Seconds later came the sound of flint striking tinder and Treize lit the oil lamp in the lamp stand and lengthened the wick till it banished the darkness.

"What is the meaning of this?" Treize demanded and Quatre saw his master first instinct upon waking had not been the lamp, neither had it been to clothe himself for he was naked save for the silken _subligar_ secured about his loins. Yet he carried a wicked looking short sword. Where it had been, concealed amid his bed clothes, was a mystery. But the fact that he had been awake and ready to defend himself filled Quatre with relief.

"I bring a message from Germanous." The stranger announced. "I tried to deliver it earlier but your thralls refused me audience."

"He had a knife Master." The blonde boy declared, still perched on the stranger's back. He recognized the man now as the same villain Heero and Zechs had seen fit to force to the end of the line this morning.

"You would take the word of a mere slave over my own? I am a citizen and a noble." The man exclaimed.

"You are a fool." Treize growled under his breath.

"I can prove the truth of my words. Let me up immediately!" the man struggled to withdraw a sealed parchment from the folds of his dusky red tunic but the knee between his shoulder blades made it clear Quatre had no intension of letting the man up.

Treize was careful to stay out of easy reach as he bent to snatch the missive from the man's outstretched hand. He apparently recognized the seal but did not look pleased. "Where is the knife Quatre."

"I-I" the blonde faltered nervously. That tone from any other master usually meant he was in for some serious pain. But this wasn't any other master this was Master Treize. He closed his eyes briefly replaying everything that had happened since his empathy woke him. "Check under the bed." He said evenly and the man renewed his struggles.

"Preposterous!" the stranger growled but Treize knelt and lifted the bed skirt. It didn't take long to locate the dagger. He also emerged with a silken belt in one hand which he flung at Quatre.

"I've never seen that blade before…Your boy probably planted it. I'm just an honest messenger. You have the missive as proof. Let me go I must be getting back to General Germanous. Or have you a response to send back to him?"

The man never lost his bluff and bluster. But Treize wasn't buying it for an instant, trying to cast blame on Quatre only made him angrier. "Tie him," he growled and hastily dressed covering his tunic with an open dressing robe to shield against the night chill.

"Yes Sir." Quatre complied and soon the stranger found himself neatly trussed up like a calf on the altar, awaiting sacrifice. The russet haired gentleman leaned forward grasping the intruder by the collar and lifted him bodily from the floor. The chord Quatre has used to restrain him permitted him to do nothing but kneel -- half-bent backwards wrists fixed to ankles. How the blonde learned to immobilize someone so completely didn't bear thinking about at least not at present in any case.

Treize crossed both blades, his own and that belonging to the one recovered from beneath the bed and placed the man's neck between the deadly vice. Raising one forked eyebrow Treize demanded "I am no fool. There is only one messenger Germanous would send to bring me this information and you are certainly not he. If you've harmed that boy you will shortly wish I had killed you. But let us get back to that in a moment shall we?"

The ice in his master's voice sent a shiver up Quatre's spine. He was more than glad they were on Treize's side. He would never want this man for an enemy. The man's tone was casual – but deadly. "I don't believe you understand the seriousness of your actions." Treize counted off on his fingers. "First, you have intercepted an imperial messenger, which is classed under the lay was obstruction of duty. Secondly you have in your possession a missive from an active general in the armed forces that is sedition. Thirdly, you have brought harm to one whom is a blood relation to the emperor himself that my fellow is a treasonous affair. And finally, you are clearly guilty of unlawful entry into the home of a patrician, the elected leader of the Imperial equates. An elite paramilitary body granted certain rights and privileges by the emperor himself, you might say we are a law unto ourselves. You threatened my home, my people, and my person...any one of which may be punishable by death." Treize cracked his knuckles, "I think you begin to see the folly of your ways."

"I-I meant n-no h-harm." The man faltered.

"Of course not, you intended to use deception to trick me to decode Germanous' message for you then planned to take it back to whoever hired you. Barring that, you intended to use threat or violence to compel me to do the same. Now tell me, and tell me quickly, what you have done to the rightful carrier of this message and I may hand you over to the city guard, rather that exact my own brand of punishment on your sorry hide. I assure you it will be both slow and eminently painful."

H-he's tied to a tree near the river. Unconscious b-but alive when last I saw. D-don't know why you'd care though…Boy's a simpleton…god-cursed--Wouldn't even get a good price for him. Royal blood or no he should have been left for the animals at birth."

"PRICE?!! You would consider selling… you must want me to kill you." Treize grumbled. "I will not abide that kind if talk." He rummaged around for another tie this one he knotted and forced between the man's jaws effectively gagging him. "A prudent man would know there is more to young Claudius than meets the eye. You are going to take us to him." Treize commanded bending to get a closer look at the manner in which Quatre had restrained the intruded. Treize was impressed…and a bit unnerved, with his slave's knowledge of knots. The bindings were both effective and serviceable. By easing off a single loop the prisoner would be permitted enough freedom to walk, albeit hunched over but not enough to have any hope of getting free. He easily adjusted the restraints and forced the man to his feet shoving him to get him moving in the right direction. "NOW!"

"Papa." Mariemaia leaned against her door frame looking sleep-rumpled and rubbing her eye. Still, a dagger hung from the belt holding her sleeping robe together and her hand rested on the hilt. "What is going on?"

"There was some trouble my sweet but Quatre took care of it." Treize announced

The blonde in question blushed at the unexpected praise. He hardly noticed when his master wrested the heirloom letter opener from his fingers. "You are very brave my boy." Treize declared and offered him his choice of short sword or dagger. "We need to marshal our forces and find the general's wayward messenger it is best if you were armed as well.

"You should stay here and bar the door so you are not exposed to further danger. I gave WuFei my word I would not leave you alone but I will be as quick as I am able."

Treize chuckled softly. "My fierce little cub, it is good you wish to protect me but I am armed and we are all going to the courtyard. I will guard this piece of filth while you fetch Zechs and the boys. Marie will summon Noin and Sally. I am sure our Dragon will understand the necessity." Treize grabbed his daughter up with one arm to balance on his hip and nudged the prisoner forward with the point of his sword.

"Yes Sir." Quatre accepted the assassin's dagger some what reluctantly. It was death for a slave to be caught so armed, unless that slave was a warrior. He clasped his closed fist to his heart and bowed his head as he had seen the gladiators do as a sign of obedience. "I live to serve." He intoned solemnly and bowed.

-------------------------

"Wake up!" Quatre called pounding up the stairs to the slave quarters.

His cousin was the first to meet him blue eyes wild. "Is Treize all right?" Zechs demanded.

"He wasn't hurt but he is downstairs guarding a prisoner…said he was a messenger from Germanous. But it was a lie." The boy explained. The larger blonde grabbed a tunic in one hand and his sword in the other and pushed past Quatre to make sure this 'prisoner' was no longer a threat. The two gladiators became 'battle ready' in an instant following their lanista downstairs. WuFei had his sword in hand and Duo followed moments later. "You comin' cat?" the braided boy called.

"Y-yes" Quatre replied trying to figure out what Duo was doing with the matched armlets Treize had given him and the sash he had worn the previous day… making some sort of impromptu weapon he suspected. But the blonde had never seen anything quite like it.

Marie and the ladies emerged from the lower level at the same time as Quatre emerged from the upper level to join Zechs, Treize and the rest of the slaves in the courtyard.

Like Zechs, Lady Noin was still smoothing down her tunic but her bow was in hand an arrow resting on the string ready for action. The other women Quatre had yet to meet but from WuFei's description of 'That Onna healer' he could tell the blonde with the light eyes and unusual hairstyle to be Sally Po. Duo had described 'the spunky smith gal' and so that meant that the scowling matronly woman must be the house steward Lady Anne Une.

The prisoner's was still bound and gagged and now was sporting a bruise on one cheek. He looked thoroughly cowed kneeling on the cobbles. Quatre thought it odd that Treize hadn't asked the man who had hired him…But then again maybe he hadn't needed to; Treize had enemies enough as did Germanous. His uncle Duke Dermail numbered among them more often than not. The truth of the matter made Quatre rethink his former mistress's sudden appearance at the estate. He was well aware Dorothy's allegiance shifted with the tide, but he had never spoken ill of her Cousin Treize. If not for the way they fought one would think she idolized the man. Lady Catalonia had a nose for trouble and her unorthodox intrusion was guaranteed to put Treize on alert if nothing else. That sword had to come from somewhere after all; the man had been prepared.

When Zechs knelt to free the ropes at the prisoner's ankles he whispered something that made the man's face go from red to ashen in an instant. Quatre wished he had heard what his cousin had said to evoke such a severe reaction--But they were just out of earshot.

Chapter 16 notes

_Subligar: _its literal meaning is 'the little binding underneath_' _in the modern vernacular it would be the same as admitting Treize wears short shorts. 

Claudius: Historic figure, 'Tiberius Claudius Drusus' younger brother of Germanous. We see him as an unlikely hero barely 18 years old. Lame, and suffering from a speech impediment, Claudius was frequently the object of ridicule. His own mother called him a 'monster' But History agrees with Treize. After most of his family is slaughtered in political in-fighting he becomes Emperor Claudius the first and rules till AD 54. His rule was marked by the increased political influence exercised by his private secretaries, who exercised quasi-ministerial functions, many historians attribute the good administration which marked his reign to these able 'professionals' But I believe that a wise man knows when to delegate. Claudius was a scholar and historian he wrote many historical works and an autobiography, though no copies survive.


	17. Into the night

Chapter 17 Into the night

Heero was accustomed to being wakened without warning in the darkest watches of the night. There had been times during his training when the doctors had not permitted him more than a candle mark of rest in a week's time. Though Quatre's alarmed calls were not so effective as a bucket of cold water had been, he was up and armed in a fraction of an instant.

As the others readied themselves he went to place the lid on the _tazze _to ensure the last cinders of pinecone were fully extinguished before following the others down the stairs. He still couldn't believe Trowa had thought to have the others gather them. Heero wanted to believe the green-eyed _Retarii_ had needed them to keep the nightmares at bay as much as he did…though he doubted it. Trowa seemed to be coping with this new life far better than he. Heero wasn't sure if taking comfort from the other gladiator's forethought was a weakness or not. His training made him hesitant to accept anything from anyone. But Zechs didn't seem to mind. Heero mused as he stepped lightly down the stairs to the courtyard.

Zechs _had_ found fragrant smoke soothing just as he did. Heero had seen tension bleed out the barbarian prince as his mind relinquished its brooding to slip into less complex patterns forged during his time in the arena. The young warrior found it interesting his new _lanista_ would still require such things. Zechs had been a member of lord Treize's household for several years at least. But perhaps even those of noble blood had difficulty slipping the chains the doctors of the arena laid on heart and mind. That would mean his reaction _couldn't_ be counted as weakness. Right? Heero frowned in thought.

Regardless of Zechs more relaxed lifestyle he wasn't weak. That was truly apparent at present. The man was every inch the warrior and it was a good thing. Seeing that thinly veiled edge of ferocity was just the thing to instill the proper measure of respect in the now trembling and pale faced prisoner kneeling on the cobbles. The young gladiator listened from a discrete distance as Zechs' velvety voice painted a lurid picture of exactly how his 'less than civilized brethren' dispense with those who incur their ire. It was true Odin had been Heero's first trainer, but the man had never seen fit to discuss the type of sacrifices offered to the god that shared his name. And even if he had, Heero doubted he would have understood it as anything other than an inefficient and time consuming way to kill.

Up to this point Heero had thought himself well acquainted with death but the end generally came quickly in the arena, either a proud death brought by an opponent's blade on the sands of the arena, or a private death in disgrace brought the priests hammer to the back of the skull. But what Zechs calmly, collectedly, described lingering deaths caused by torture and systematic dismemberment. One method was carving a 'blood eagle' into the prisoners back. Another was a truly gruesome way of forcing a prisoner to walk around a tree; gradually disemboweling himself until he died from weakness and blood loss.

The graphic visuals made even the hardened gladiator's blood run cold. The threat was more than apparent when Zechs smiled sweetly, and informed the prisoner "It wasn't prudent to threaten Lord Kushrenada," as such things "made him testy" and He "wasn't feeling particularly civilized at the moment." Heero sincerely hoped the cold fire simmering in those ice-blue eyes would never be directed at him. He'd had enough emotional upset in one day and he was mighty glad Zechs was not his enemy.

"You alright Ro?" Violet eyes asked glimmering in the timid glow of the lamp set on a stand to illumine the courtyard.

"Hn," was the gladiator's standard answer. He was still amazed how well that simple syllable had served him for so many years. It meant what ever the asker wanted it to mean and only rarely got him into trouble. He wasn't like WuFei, not by a long shot. Languages did not come easy to him. When Master Treize had mentioned they were to have 'lessons' Heero had been filled with unspeakable dread. Dear Quatre could not imagine the quagmire his simple 'language lessons' would exhume.

Heero had been 'lessoned' by pirates after the captain of the red-eyed-jay pulled him from the scrap of wood he clung to amid the storm tossed seas. Their training, in preparation for the slave market had been so very harsh. Anything he said in the language of his former life had been summarily punished with the lash. Even now, simply hearing the vaguely familiar words gracing WuFei's lips filled him with a sort of guilty pleasure. His knowledge of Latin had been beaten into him in much the same manor as his knowledge of his native tongue had been beaten out; the second having been accomplished before long the first had achieved any measure of success.

Heero suspected Odin had never meant to be cruel he only punished his protégé when Heero wasn't focusing on his training…but how could He focus when he could not comprehend what was expected of him? It had been another weakness a perfect warrior couldn't afford. The _Doctores _of the _Ludus Magnus_ had continued Heero's training driving their ideals into body and mind, as one drives a stake into hard packed soil. WuFei, proud warrior that he was, had no idea how his precious forms compared to learning the stilted movements prescribed in the deadly dances traced out in the sands of the arena. But he had learned - had become the champion the others wanted him to be.

But life was different now and once more he had to confront the unknown. Not all changes were bad. Trowa had said so. And Heero's experiences since coming to be a part of what Duo had referred to as 'Klan Kushrenada' seemed to back up the other gladiator's claim. Zechs and Treize weren't his enemies. They weren't looking to harm him. In the past few days Heero had done things he'd not even dared contemplate days before. He had witnessed other gladiator's engage in horseplay in the baths and knew some masters threw great victory celebrations for their champions. Some fighters belonging to nobles were even housed outside the _schola_. But he had never experienced such things himself.

Of all gladiators _Sissori_ were kept isolated from the rest - chained usually when not in combat or confined to a cell. Any lapse in training might mar the keen edge of their …perfect weapon-Or so the Doctors said. Unlike Trowa, He had had no entertainer companion to fill the dark and lonely hours with tales of battle and glory in days gone by. He envied the others…he envied them all. And yet…Is it so unexpected that this new life…and the audacity of his own actions…should terrify him so?

Master Treize was speaking now and Heero's training would not permit him to give anything less than his absolute attention. He violently thrust his tangled thoughts away and focused on his master. The noble didn't flinch, as his other keepers had, under the intensity of his cobalt gaze.

"This _Anguis in herba_ (snake in the grass)" Treize practically spat the words, "has dared harm the Emperors grandson… and faithful messenger of his brother Germanous, my _amicus verus_. (true friend)

"May I kill him for you?" Heero asked in a polite monotone. He had never tried anything as graphic as Zechs had described but had acted as executioner in the arena more times than he dared count. It was not fitting that ether Zechs or Treize sully their blades with the blood of the unworthy; And Heero didn't want any of the others to have to do it. Besides, He recognized the man as the one who had attempted to cause trouble during court that morning. He would have killed the man then had Zechs not stopped him.

"Thank you but no. I will see he faces the emperors justice soon enough. But first he is going to show us where Claudius is." Treize explained gracing his earnest gladiator with a smile. Then Treize leaned in and whispered in he prisoners ear, _"Memento Mori"_ (remember you must die) "How, remains to be seen. I trust you will cooperate."

"MOVE" Zechs growled shoving the prisoner toward the gate. The rest of the party followed. It was only now Heero noticed that the dark haired huntress Noin and several other women had joined them. From the descriptions Zechs had given them upon their arrival at the villa he suspected the tall brunet that kept an arm on Marie's shoulder like a broody she-bear was probably Lady Une the House Steward …and it seemed likely one with the sandy-blond coils on each side of her head was the one WuFei had referred to as "that Po woman."

She carried a bulging satchel like some surgeons the doctors had employed from time to time. Heero had hated them. The fever and drug induced delirium that followed their visits had most certainly been worse than the original injury for which they had been summoned. The gladiator shivered at the memory and slipped further from the others shielding himself from the woman's pale blue gaze as they made their way through the moon lit wood.

Lady Noin knew the woods best so she held the prisoners tether ensuring he did not lead them astray. Zechs and Trowa both carried torches lighting the way and hoping to reveal any would be ambushers. Treize, Une, Sally and Mariemia were in the center and best guarded position and the rest followed behind in a loose crescent moon formation, scanning the trees for any sign of danger.

"Heero," Quatre's voice made him jump startled. He tried to glare at the little blonde but seeing the concerned look in those wide blue-green eyes, and the way the boy rubbed his chest in sympathy, stole his resolve. Then Heero's eyes widened as he noted the dagger the other slave held loosely in one hand.

"It belonged to the prisoner. Master Treize said I should have it, incase I need to defend myself…Do you think you could show me…" the young blonde lowered his gaze abashed.

"Quatre was so brave protecting Father and me," Mariemia announced trying to wriggle out of the lady's tight grasp. The stern matron wasn't having any of it, so the girl continued with her narrative where she was, "He took on the bad man all by himself! Their tussling woke me up so I only saw the end bit. But he had the snake unarmed and pinned to the ground before we even knew there was a danger!" she gushed happily.

"It was nothing really." It seemed Quatre's cheeks darkened but they were at the edge of the torchlight so it was difficult to tell.

"Don't make light of what you have done." Heero frowned then drew one of his short swords from the scabbard on is back. "Hold the knife like this." He directed "Use your weapon to push away that of your enemy like so. Aim for the limbs if you want to discourage an attack, stab here or here. Go for the body for a kill, heart, lungs, stomach, or bowels. A solid strike at any will end a fight. Stay low, Be quick, in and out. Don't give them a chance to strike back." He sapped the blade in a tight circle, "Do your best. Any of the rest of us will help take care of any who would harm you. I will show you more when there is time."

"Y-you will…T-Thank you!" Quatre looked relived.

"Sure we will!" Duo bounced out of the darkness with a brilliant grin and threw an arm around Quatre's slim shoulders nearly knocking the slight youth off balance.

"I should have been there." WuFei rumbled from his place at the left of the column. "You shouldn't have been put in that position."

"I asked you to go...no one could have known what would happen…everything turned out all right." Quatre faltered nervous at being the center of attention.

They found the injured messenger without too much difficulty. He was slumped against a tree near a stream. The boy's horse; along with another-presumably belonging to the prisoner, were tethered nearby. The physician knelt to staunch the blood seeping from the wound on the boy's forehead Quatre moved hastily to assist her, fetching water and confiscating Zechs torch to illuminate the area where she was working.

Treize and Zechs hovered nearby concerned as to the boy's condition. While they were distracted the prisoner decided to make his move, jerking hard on the tether that had been lax in Noin's grasp, grabbing her bow and making a dash for the horses.

Heero, Trowa and WuFei had their blades drawn and were preparing to run the man down, when a strange whirring sound gave them pause. Then the fleeing captive suddenly let out a garbled cry and crumpled face first into the loam.

The stunned scilence was broken when Duo's laughter filled the night. "Didja see? He was all like." The braided boy mimed running in place, panting and looking desperate. "Then thunk! Like a festival puppet with its strings cut. Got 'em good. No?"

"Hn," was Heero's ever eloquent reply. He had reached the downed man by this time and found the silk sash weighted with Duo's armlets wound around the felon's knees. In the sphere of Towa's approaching torchlight he could see the man's calves were purpled and Heero suspected one ankle was badly twisted if not broken in his fall.

Master Treize clapped the braided boy on the shoulder-putting a stop to his nervous dancing about. With a proud smile the man admitted, "You did well Duo."

The urchin's grin outshone the moon but only the very observant would note that it did not banish the shadows from his darkly violet eyes. Those it seemed, grew deeper, almost haunted.

Chapter 17 notes

**The blood eagle** was reportedly a method of torture and execution that is sometimes mentioned in skaldic poetry and Norse saga literature. It was incredibly graphic going into the details would doubtless necessitate changing the rating of this story. If you really want the specifics I can pm you. As it is, the historic validity of such practices are disputed. Some take it as historical evidence of religion inspired atrocities, while others insist such things are fiction crafted by storytellers to entertain. Alfred Smyth (1977) is a particularly enthusiastic supporter, taking the blood-eagle as a historical practice of human sacrifice to the Norse god Odin. King Ælla (Ella) of Northumbria, Halfdan son of King Haraldr Hárfagri of Norway, King Edmund, King Maelgualai of Munster, and possibly Archbishop Ælfheah are cited as victims of these execution practices. I tend to believe that torture of this magnitude would have been effective object lessons to their enemies. Warriors 'going a viking' relied on intimidation and extortion as they did force of arms. Rumors of extreme practices such as these mentioned (true or not) would have been effective means of getting communities to willingly cooperate, and pay whatever they wanted to be left alone rather than risk such a fate themselves. Zechs is using this as an instance of psychological torment and does not actually intend to get his hands dirty, as the man in question isn't worth the effort.

**The Bola** is thought to be one of the earliest weapons dating as far back as 50,000 years ago and is in many ways similar to the weighted net Trowa would have used as a retarii. It is believed the bola was discovered ancient hunters learned a rock could be cast farther with more accuracy and more velocity than it could by hand, if it had a cord or thong tied to it. Adding a weight to the other end of the chord as well made it a weapon of entanglement rather than bludgeoning force. Throughout the ages hunters have made bolos with 3, 4, 6, 8 or even 10 weights attached. Duo found two quite effective. Quatre would never have had the opportunity to see a bolo in use which is why he didn't recognize what duo had been doing earlier. But As a street urchin I suspect such primitive weapons would have been useful for snaring birds or other small animals or rodents to supplement his diet of grain mash, scavenged fruits, and bread. The bola is not a friendly weapon as it often damages the target by breaking bones and causing other severe trauma. I don't feel particularly bad for this guy though, he deserved it after all.

**Puppets. **I always though marionettes were products of the later middle ages and renaissance in fact they go back much earlier**. **There is evidence that they were used in Egypt as early as 2000 BC. In ancient Greece and Rome clay and ivory dolls, were found in children's tombs dated from around 500 BC, These dolls had articulated arms and legs, some of which had an iron rod extending up from the tops of their heads. This rod was used to manipulate the doll from above, exactly as is done today in Sicilian puppetry. A few of these dolls had strings in place of the rods. Plato's work is full of references to puppeteering. The 'Iliad' and the 'Odyssey' were presented using puppetry and Herodotus wrote that during festivals to honor Osiris, female priests carried statues which had moving arms activated by strings, this was likely what duo was referring to.


	18. At Loose Ends

Chapter 18 At Loose Ends

Treize and Zechs hacked a few stout branches and constructed a serviceable litter with the consummate skill of veteran campaigners. Trowa and WuFei conveyed the injured messenger back to the manor under Sally's watchful gaze.

The prisoner was not afforded such comfort. After his abortive escape attempt he was again trussed up like a calf before slaughter and draped across Zechs broad shoulders.

The smith Hildi was waiting outside the gate to the manor with four Praetorian guards from the local garrison ready to take their prisoner into custody. Duo had a well honed fear of large men in imperial uniform. Some of the bruises he had received at their hand in the slave markets had yet to fade completely. And that did not even take into account all the years he had been pointedly trying to stay out of their reach before he had finally been captured and collared for sale. The braided boy took the opportunity to fade back into the shadows and almost collided with Heero.

"Here." The Taciturn gladiator said practically shoving the make shift bola into his hands.

"T-thanks." Duo faltered, for once at a loss for words. He just couldn't read what was going on behind those cold blue eyes. "I know you could have taken him down. You didn't really need my help; I Just thought my way might be easier."

"Efficient." Heero shrugged dismissively, the way someone else might comment on the weather; then turned to follow the others back into the courtyard.

"Hun." The braided boy stared after them but didn't move. Huntress Noin was accompanying soldiers and their caged wagon bumping down the rutted road toward the garrison. Trowa and Treize split off to settle the two horses in the stables. Zechs and WuFei were carrying the injured youth on the litter into the hospital rooms where Sally would treat his other injuries. Lady Une was carrying a now sleeping Mariemaia off to bed. Heero and Quatre had stated their intension to make a room by room search of the premises to ensure there were no other threats...Leaving Duo all alone.

The rebellious voice that had kept him alive on the streets for so many years was shouting for him to run…run far and fast. He'd survived on his own for many years…Like he'd told Heero, they didn't need him…Or more specifically he didn't need them. Sure it was nice having plenty to eat. And sleeping on a fluffy cushion sure beat kipping out in the gutter. But he couldn't help wonder what the cost might be. Nothing was free and Duo wasn't sure whether he could do this, _be_ what they expected him to be.

"How long is it going to take before they realize you're just a street rat and a thief?" the traitorous voice in his mind whispered. "Have nothing, are nothing, be nothing." The mantra had been his companion many a year. Did he dare hope things could be different? Duo felt he was just waiting around for the other sandal to drop. And he didn't even typically _wear_ sandals.

'You've done well Duo.' Treize's voice echoed again in his mind. How long had it been since he'd heard those words? Not since the plague had taken Solo. He still recalled what he had felt clutching his friend rapidly cooling body to his chest and screaming out at wretched Apollo for stealing the closest thing he's ever had to family. He had vowed then that he wouldn't let anyone so close that loosing them would hurt that much.

Then he'd gone and done just that. Tears stung his violet eyes. That feeling of warmth and security was as addictive as poppy syrup and trusting others could be just as dangerous. But he didn't want to be alone again, gods he didn't. Only a true idiot would turn their back on a good thing. And this was good wasn't it? Then why was here standing here, in the street in the wee hours before dawn?

'Baka Maxwell you are clearly delusional' this time that mental voice sounded like WuFei, he wanted to scream at the broody dragon for getting under his skin but the other slave wasn't anywhere around for him to yell at. 'Stop arguing with yourself and come back inside and get some sleep like a reasonable being.' The mind voice sounded patronizing…but it was right.

"Yeah, I guess." Duo whispered into the night, and slipped back inside, closing, and locking the gate behind him.

"Are you all right Duo?" Zechs asked emerging from the healer's chambers; the moon casting the barbarian prince's long locks into striking relief.

"Busy night, er, morning'?" Duo hedged.

"It has been at that." Zechs nodded in agreement slipping a hand to his shoulder ever so briefly. "I'm glad you decided to stay." He whispered then his long strides quickly outdistanced the young urchin, leaving him to climb the stairs to the slave quarters alone. He could hear voices of the others. WuFei's acerbic tones most pronounced of those within. "Braided baka, what is keeping him?"

"Don't worry dragon he'll be along shortly." Zechs velvety voice soothed,

"Good." The terse comment likely came from Heero. And Duo felt relief blossom in his chest –WuFei _had_ been worried about him, Zechs did want him here… Heero did too. I'm not alone. I don't have to be alone. They won't hurt me…please don't hurt me…don't let me be hurt…not again. He prayed silently and crept through the open passage way into the slave quarters.

"Duo!" the full force of Quatre's smile hit him like a physical force as soon as he cleared the doorway. Then the little blonde had him by the hand and was pulling him inside. "Master is staying downstairs in the medical wing with Claudius. Miss Sally says she'll be looking after them both so we can get some rest too. You look tired…and stressed. We all are I think. How about I play my harp for a while and see if I can encourage the Oneiroi to smile down on us? You are staying as well, aren't you Zechs?" The blonde momentarily refocused his liquid blue gaze on his long haired cousin.

Zechs' guilty look was enough confirmation that he _had_ intended to creep back downstairs to invade the healer's demesne. With the best intensions of course; someone had to ensure Treize was safe and not overdoing things-as was his habit. But that someone didn't have to be him. Sally would doubtlessly not appreciate his interfering. All these things flicked across the barbarian prince's face under his cousin's careful scrutiny. And when the little blonde settled into a nest of pillows and blankets brought his lyre to his shoulder and began to play. The Delicate strains falling on tired ears was enough to compel others, Zechs included, to settle down, close their eyes and listen to the artful melody till the gods of sleep carried them over the western sea to the gates of horn and beyond.

--------------------

Almost directly below the slave quarters, was the wide open room that had served House Kushrenada as _valetudinaria_ since the old lord came back from campaign. (hospital/medical center)_. _It was relatively plain and unadorned, easy to keep clean, with plenty of beds for any who had need. Mistress Po's predecessor, Aretaeus of Cappadocia, served only those of his master's household. But after the old doctor's passing his outspoken assistant asked Treize if she might open the practice to the villagers or anyone at all who required care. Since the new lord Kushrenada hadn't had the staff his father did, he agreed. And the situation had worked out well for everyone ever since.

Sometimes it got quite busy with village folk coming and going at odd hours seeking treatment for everything thing from runny noses, cuts and bruises, stomach ills, to major burns, farming accidents, child bearing or curses. Even so, caring for the injured messenger wouldn't be a hardship for her. In point of fact, there wasn't much capable of keeping Miss Sally Po from mothering anyone she had set her sights on. The woman was a force of nature as relentless as the tides. Treize suspected even his fiery dragon had met his match in the cool-eyed medic. And there would doubtless be quite a few of sparks and much steam generated about when the two strong willed healers clashed…which they surely would.

The noble noted with some satisfaction that young Claudius had been placed in the bed in the far corner where he could have some measure of privacy. The youth was rarely in the best of shape and seemed particularly frail swathed in bandages as he was now. He suffered from ill heath most of his life; a fact made most apparent during times of stress when it seemed his muscles made war on each other making his limbs tremble with palsy. Many thought him as deficient in mind as he was in body. But Treize knew that couldn't be further from the truth. Claudius was quick witted and intelligent. He worked hard to gain some measure of mastery over his rebellious body but would he never be described as robust. And the injuries sustained from this latest instance of abuse would take time in mending. Treize was aware the youth had woken several times while being transported back to the manor, the pain drawing him back from unconsciousness.

Sally said he suffered from exposure, as well as the physical hurts resulting from his being hit over the head and then beaten. How long had he been out there hurt and alone? A day and a night at least, Treize hated to think about it. There was definitely a part of himself who wished he _had_ let Zechs or Heero exact their brand of punishment on the man who had done this to Claudius. It would have been satisfying to watch. But his nobler nature had won out in the end. Not that he was doing the man any favors, The Imperial inquisitors were very good at their jobs and Treize was certain they would know everything the there was to know about the attack and the invasion of his sanctuary, before the man was finally executed.

"I know you are there." The quiet voice brought him from his thoughts. Claudius hadn't moved and the thick lashes still lay against his sallow cheeks. Feigning sleep, Treize realized, while he assessed his condition and whereabouts. The warning was a way to put a potential assailant off balance. Let them know he couldn't be taken unawares again. Treize knew well this wasn't the first time Germanous' messenger had been attacked. But usually he was prey to the bullyboys of court who felt the need to prove they were 'his better.'

"You are safe Claudio, I'm not about to harm you and neither will any of my household." He assured the boy.

The dark eyes flew open instantly. "T-treize…M-my L-lord Kushrenada!" The youth declared in recognition and surprise; He nearly sat up then leaned on one elbow when the pain in his ribs halted him. "I-I T-tried, the missive…f-from m-my brother…t-aken! I…a-m s-o s-orry."

Treize knew Claudius could, with focus and concentration, control his stammering, or at least mitigate it for a time. But he had told the boy long ago that the extra effort was wasted on him. "Let the words come as they will Claudio, I want to hear what you have to say regardless. " He reminded the boy. "I will never judge you for that which is beyond your control." He promised.

Still there was such sorrow in that faltering voice Treize's heart went out to him. Sitting on the adjacent bed he took Claudius' hand in his own. "It is alright. No one could decipher the code but me--idiot brought it to me himself. That is how we found you. How bad does it hurt?"

"N-not so bad. I-I've had cracked ribs before." Claudius tried to shrug it off.

"Your mother was an idiot for turning you over to an ox-heard, to be trained like a truculent animal. You are a prince, Tiberius Claudius Nero Germanicus…I know many like to forget you are Augustus's grandson but it is truth none the less.

"M-my b-body betrays me. I am m-misbegotten." The youth cast his eyes on the blue and white mosaic tiling the floor.

Treize recalled the boy's assailant had said something to the same effect, and even Antonia, the boy's mother had called him a 'monster' before the whole court. Narrow-minded fools the lot of them, much more deserving of the epithet 'idiot' that Claudius ever was. "When you were born in Lugdunum (Lyon France) there was much rejoicing. The people of Gaul knew you had much promise. They saw it in you then…you have it still. So you won't be the great general your brother is. You don't have to be. There is more to a man than simple strength of arms. Your mind works just as well as any man, and better than most. I wouldn't be surprised if you could attain a consulship, were you to try for it. I'd support you. And not just because of the friendship I bear your brother either." Treize told the young man honestly.

"B-be he e-emperor or s-slave a wise m-man d-does n-not go against the w-wishes of a Kushrenada." The youth quoted one of Germanous' favorite sayings with a playful twinkle in his eye.

"And so you prove your wisdom yet again." Treize laughed lightly. "Speaking of slaves, I've finally begin building my household. They are a fine bunch of lads; a bit younger than you. They should attain majority this year though no birth-date was listed on their papers. I've got a personal attendant, a bodyguard, a scribe, a runner and a beast trainer. But they are each so multi-talented they constantly surprise me. I tell you Claudio the noble houses are doing themselves more harm than they can imagine in the way they abuse those who serve them. Treat a slave as an animal they will be sure to bite you given a chance. Treat him them as a loyal companion and brother and they will become the support you need."

"I-I will remember that sir." Claudius nodded. "Though I m-must admit I have s-seen something of w-what you say. I-I have only rarely been d-derided and b-beaten b-by slaves. A-and t-then it w-was at their m-masters c-command. It is t-the n-nobles I-I don't t-trust…p-p-present c-company e-excluded of c-course."

"Thank you." Treize squeezed his hand and released it. "You need rest my friend. I should leave you to it."

"The m-message…Y-you have decoded it?" Claudius asked.

"Yes," the noble ran his fingers through his tawny locks and sighed. "I've been waiting more than a year for Germanous to find proof of what I suspected. Now I'm not sure how I'm going to tell Zechs. He won't be happy."

"Y-you have a G-gift for U-understatement M-my lord." The messenger frowned. "M-my b-brother has b-been s-singed a t-time or t-two by y-your B-barbarian's T-temper. I-I exp-p-pect Y-you'll be l-leaving s-soon."

"You are probably right. I know you are eager to race back to your brother's side as well. But I'd rather you didn't. Stay here and take your time to heal…let Sally and Anne pamper you for a while. I'm sure they will like that; especially as I won't be here for them to fuss over. Besides, I know you've been eager to explore my library, now you've finally got the time."

"_P-p-post n-nubila P-phoebus_," (Every cloud has a silver lining) the youth smiled. "Y-you are m-more generous t-than I-I c-can say m-my lord." Claudius smiled easing himself back into the pillows.

"Think nothing of it. You know what…" Treize yawned expansively. "This bed is very soft." He leaned back on the bed on which he had been sitting, tucking up his knees. "I think… I'm going to stay… right here. G'night," He sighed nestled into the pillows and was asleep before he knew it.

He didn't notice when the ever vigilant Sally came to cover him with a blanket, didn't hear her give Claudius more poppy syrup to ease the pain enough for him to sleep…he was totally oblivious for several candle-marks at least until the birds outside the window woke to greet the dawn.

--------------------

Everyone in Villa Kushrenada agreed morning came unbelievably early after the adventure of the night before. When the boys made their way into the _triclinio_, (dining room) they found Treize already present, reclining on his dining couch cradling a steaming cup in his palm. The shadows under his normally bright blue eyes were a testament to the fact that he had spent even less time abed than they had.

"Good morning Master." Quatre smiled brightly shouldering his Lyre, "would you like me to play for you?'

"You should eat first. There is plenty of fruit and some fresh pastries as well." The man offered but the blonde took note that Treize barely took a sip of the warm mint in his cup let alone sample any of the other delicacies arrayed on the table. Also choosing to forgo the meal Quatre settled down comfortable on one of the pillows by the table and in no time his artful fingers were plucking strains of music from the strings evoking images of bubbling brooks and birdsong.

"I helped make the pastries." Duo announced bringing a large plate from the kitchens. "And cook made wheat cakes and some foul drink for you fighter types. She said Z swears by it…Where is our Z…Fei Fei is missing too. They still sleeping?"

"Still at the baths," Trowa pointed out, feeding some small meaty tidbits to Nanashi who appeared to be feeling much better after a good nights sleep.

Quatre struck a sour chord, "I'm sure it is all my fault." The blond admitted. "They both feel awful that that man got into the house. I should have been more alert. I should have gotten help before he got anywhere near the master suite."

"You did just fine Quatre," Trowa reassured, "More than fine actually. None of us could have done any better."

"Too true--You may well have saved my life last night, Marie's as well." Treize explained. "Zechs has been my protector for years. But he needed to learn that he isn't the only one capable of doing so. All five of you are more than able and thanks to WuFei's pin-magic I am in better condition to protect my self than I have been in years."

"See there, I knew Dragonboy was magic." Duo whispered a bit louder than he anticipated.

Heero scoffed, pouring some of the liquid Duo had brought into a clay cup. A tentative sniff confirmed his suspicions that it was fortified Sekanjabin. In two gulps he drained the cup. Then he took one of the barrel hoops used in the dinner entertainment of the night before and rolled it across the floor to Duo who's face split into a huge grin. "Hey Tro, fuzzy didn't get to do his tricks last night, think we could do them now?"

"All right." The beast master set the young panther on the floor and untied the thin strip of leather that kept the slave collar from chafing around his neck. Quatre resumed his music picking up the tempo a bit. The panther seemed to dance to the tune as he tried to pounce on the trailing end of the strip. Sometimes Trowa would drag it slowly across the slate floor other times he flicked it like a whip. Causing the cub to prance and jump. Both looked to be enjoying themselves.

Duo positioned the hoop several inches above the ground. Nanashi eagerly chased the lure through the hoop. Heero already had the second and third in position and the young panther jumped through them easily as well. Trowa turned the cub around to make the run again, Heero and Duo having raised their hoops a bit farther off the floor. Again the young panther successfully navigated the simple obstacle course.

For the finale Trowa speared a bit of raw meat on a thin metal rod and held it over Nanashi's head encouraging him to stand balanced to reach the tidbit that was his reward. The little panther stood on his haunches and lifted velveteen paws to deftly snatched the reward from the air, devouring it in a singly bite.

Then, tiring of the game Nanashi settled down to groom himself, in Heero's lap of all places. Duo pouted a bit at being passed over. Then decided to sit close enough to the other boy, that he could scratch the cub's ears and rub the soft fur of his belly.

"I'm afraid that is the best I could do in such short notice." The young beast lord peered nervously through his curtain of hair. "Nanai is still quite young and, since you don't want him for the arena, I didn't think you'd mind of I neglected using the lash."

"True enough. I am sure size alone will make him a formidable beast when grown. I don't want him ferocious and angry as well. This was a marvelous display, nicely done, Trowa. Heero, Duo; thank you, and you as well Quatre, you play beautifully."

The two warrior's touched fist to heart in salute. Duo smirked, and Quatre blushed at his master's sincere praise.

Treize hadn't realized just how much he needed this relaxed moment. It helped ease his tension just a bit. He almost felt ready for the confrontation he knew was quickly approaching…Almost.

----------------------------

Chapter 18 notes

According to Greek and Roman mythology the three Oneiroi brought dreams to the human realm. They are the sons of Hypnos (Somnus), the god of sleep and Nyx, the goddess of night. Morpheus the eldest could take on any human form and appear in dreams. While his brothers Phobetor (Icelus) and Phantasos induced visions of animals and inanimate objects respectively. They were personifications of dreams—black-winged daemons—and were said to live on the shores of the Ocean in the far West, in a cavern near the border of Hades. The gods sent dreams to mortals from one of two gates located there: true dreams emerged from a gate made of horn, whereas false dreams threaded their way from a gate fashioned of ivory.

"Sally Po is a force as relentless as the tides," for this is my reason for her taking the Preventer codename 'water' in Endless waltz. I know I don't showcase the Gundam Girls quite as much as I could but my focus is on the guys…that is just how it is. At least you get to see them a bit here and there, as tertiary characters. Just like in the series, they are in the story but it's not really about them. Sorry.

The facts stated about Claudius mother and his training by an oxheard are true. Claudius was kept in relative seclusion during his early his life and was largely considered an embarrassment. Roman chroniclers Suetonius and Tacitus both comment on how he dribbled, limped and was seen as a simpleton by the royal court. Even the name 'Claudius' means 'lame or crippled' in Latin. No one expected very much of him However, this life of neglect and derision allowed him opportunity to study, and despite his infirmities he possess a keen mind. His rites of passage were handled in a very private manner and his presentation to the Senate at the age of 13 was low-key. This may explain his absence from the junior offices but he did become a Consul and had many supporters urging him to run for re-election. The years Claudius spent locked away in the library made him quite the scholastic. He wrote many books on many different subjects though none have survived. He was also the last Roman emperor to have a working knowledge of the Etruscan language. (More on this later) He was also fluent in Greek.

Under Claudius' reign as Emperor imperial freedmen (former slaves) gained massive power while the Senate and nobility suffered. He also allowed long-haired barbarian Gauls into the ranks of nobility and took pleasure in trials of noble born senators and knights. During his reign around 35 Senators where condemned to death and around 200 knights suffered the same fate. Claudius enjoyed holding court behind closed doors. Since the nobles and senators were the ones recording the history his decisions were seen as cruel and ruthless and the freed men self-serving and manipulative. I would say they were looking for a puppet ruler and Claudius shut them out of his circle of advisors in favor of others (without ties to the ancient families in power for generations) It is no surprise this didn't go over well. It is a pity the ten volume autobiography Claudius himself penned has been lost.

Sekanjabin, A type of historic 'Gatorade' made with water, vinegar, sugar and mint. I've tried it and it seems like the type of thing Heero would drink. Since a gladiator's diet was largely vegetarian there is also historical evidence that they drank water with bone ash mixed in it as a calcium supplement it also might have had pain killing effects. I imagine ash water would taste awful thus I propose they mixed it in Sekanjabin to mask the flavor. In case you are wondering, yes they did have sugar in ancient Rome in fact it was often used medicinally –Even the ancients knew a spoonful of sugar helped the medicine go down.

----------------------------


	19. Stormy Despond

Chapter 19 Stormy Despond

Treize hadn't been lying when he said WuFei's treatment of his knee hadn't hurt. Zechs had seen his increased mobility but hadn't truly believed having pointy implements stuck in one's flesh_ couldn't_ hurt…Till he'd been convinced to try it himself. Not for any physical ill, he privately prided himself on his physical condition and stamina, having never quite given up the exercise regime he obtained in the arena. But this was one fight his training did nothing to help him combat. He had been plagued by nightmares and stress headaches for years. Dwelling on thoughts of his family and distant homeland usually brought them on and he was largely helpless to do anything about them. Sally said she could make a tincture of papāveris (poppy) to help deaden the pain when insomnia got unbearable but it wasn't something he wanted to become dependant on.

After the confrontation with Arri the night before he was seriously considering taking her up on the offer, and likely would have if left to his own devices. But the slaves hadn't left him alone. And the fragrance of burning Pinus had been just enough to help him relax and forget for a while. But then there had been the attempt on Treize's life and come dawn the pain had been as sever as ever. He'd done his best to hide it, but a certain ebony-eyed slave was uncannily perceptive.

After the others had gone to break their fast WuFei had offered to use his skill to relieve the pressure he could see building. Zechs was reluctant of course…but the promise of relief was a powerful motivator. That initial decision had been the most difficult thing about the whole ordeal. He was reminded of WuFei's display the night before. The the dazzling acrobatic display had been stunning of course, But what stuck in Zechs mind was the expression of peace on the proud warriors face as he knelt even in the midst of flashing blades. Zechs wanted that sense of serenity badly. "Do it." he had said finally laying on the massage table.

All it took was few skillfully placed barbs in his temples, chest, forearms, and wrist even in the skin between his toes. He quickly lost track of how many and where they were, which was actually quite astonishing. He lay very still and tried not to think of them. WuFei tried to help; asking him questions about traditions and special events celebrated in the far north. When the tiny needles were removed it seemed the weight on his shoulders lifted as well. He found it difficult to describe but it seemed he felt, more alive.

"You realize this is not a cure." WuFei's soft voice intruded on Zechs thoughts. "Emotional imbalances are more difficult to alleviate than purely physical pain."

"But I feel all-right, right now." The northern prince admitted. "Your magic is quite strong.

"This is not magic simply because you do not understand how it works." WuFei explained crossing his arms. "Just like the flame powder you helped me mix for the entertainment last night, acupuncture is based on sound principals and reasoning as much as tradition. What I have done will facilitate healing but the results are entirely up to you. There are meditation techniques and exercises I can show you that may help further but there is no easy route to inner peace."

"And have you achieved inner-peace dragon?" Zechs give him a slight twist of a smile.

The boy rolled his dark eyes and scoffed. "Of course not; I had the techniques drilled into my head as a small child but the elders of my clan determined I was a hopeless case. Mostly because of my lack of patience…though I expect my temper had something to do with it a well, and maybe my stubborn pride… But none of that prevents me from attempting to prove them wrong." The slave scoffed.

Zechs suspected none of the other slaves realized WuFei's rarely seen smile was every bit as impish as that belonging to a certain braided urchin. But it was. The blonde was still chuckling with the realization when he entered the dining room WuFei at his heals, but his expression turned stony as soon as his eyes landed on Treize.

The elder noble leaned on one elbow reclining on the dining couch. A glass of rose wine rested in one hand a roll of parchment in the other…a plate of food was set before him but it sat, untouched. Zechs knew his friend well enough that he was not surprised in the least when the first words to leave the other man's lips were 'We've got to talk."

Zechs didn't need to hear the resignation coloring that cultured voice to know that every meditation techniques the priests of the silk lands possessed wouldn't help him get through whatever was about to happen. It was with a sense of fatalism he offered a hand to help Treize rise.

He'd forgotten that thanks to WuFei's work of the other man's knee his assistance was no longer required. But Treize took his hand none the less each gripping the other's forearm. Zechs pulled him to his feet and Treize didn't immediately relinquish the grip but rather squeezed gently. A wordless gesture that was thanks, reassurance, and promise rolled all into one. It was a brief but necessary exchange and Zechs appreciated it more than words.

With a belated nod of greeting to the four slaves assembled in the dining room Zechs followed Treize into the _Peristylium._ The small inner garden provided a soothing backdrop toserious conversation and there was little chance of them being disturbed.

Treize sat on the marble lip running around the small the fountain, one hand lightly brushing the talons of the bronze eagle statue that had been the symbol of house Kushrenada for generations. Treize sometimes regretted changing it when he became _Pater familias _but after his fathers death he had been well aware there was no way house Kushrenada could continue as it had been with him at its head. He had lived beneath the eagle's dispassionate gaze and would always prefer the company of his wolves.

Zechs settled down on one of the stone benches; intense blue eyes regarding his longtime friend through the curtain of his long blonde bangs.

"Where to begin…" Treize sighed deeply, trailing his fingers in the cool water of the fountain.

Zechs knew the man well enough to know he didn't expect an answer. Treize was merely marshalling his thoughts. But that didn't prevent the blonde from giving voice to what had been troubling his own heart as of late. "Perhaps we should start with the real reason you went out of your way to shield me from your cousin's family. I wasn't taken in by that excuse you gave Noin about fearing she would lead me astray. Did it have anything to do with my cousin Arri being in her service? How long have you known. Did you know Quatre was my family as well?"

Zechs wasn't exactly sure at which point during his diatribe he had gotten off the bench and begun pacing Treize had gotten to his feet as well, placing himself directly in the path. "No M'lord I didn't know. Duke Dermal is a threat yes. He is high up in the Fellowship of Rome and a generally detestable individual. I am more often-than-not ashamed we are related. His lady-wife is not as bad but has a penchant for blondes; and tries to get her hands on any that come up for auction. Her son, Dorothy's father, started her on collecting years ago when he chose a wife from Germania which explains my cousin's mixed heritage. I am sure Quatre did not have an easy time of it in their household and I do not deny I wanted to shield you from that. But I didn't know any of them could be kin of yours. If I had known, I would have bankrupted myself trying to buy them free. I know how much family means to you. Which is why I--please, Zechs I can't talk to you like this." The entreaty did little to curtail the blonde's nervous energy, so the russet-haired noble tried to grab him by the shoulders instead.

Zechs rounded on him, "I know you've been hiding something. Why was Claudius attacked? Why did that man break in? What have you been doing that would threaten the balance of power enough that someone would threaten your life? Don't you know what it would mean to the rest of us if something were to happen to you? Why now of all times?" Emotion raged like a stormy sea, thoughts buffeted about in an unseen war of wind and wave.

The words were coming out of Treize's mouth; he had even switched to the language of Germania in deference to the sensitive of the subject. But regardless of the language the news was dealt in it could not soften the blow.

"What? Taken? When?" Zechs gasped hardly able to grasp the full import over the rushing in his ears and the throbbing of his mind. He grasped on to the one thing that prevailed above the rest. "Two years ago? Ever since Arminius' defection and the defeat of Varsis and you didn't say? You knew what this would mean to me and yet you kept silent?! Who knows what could have happened while we sat here as if it ment nothing… For almost two full years?! How could…" His fist bunched uncontrollably and swung at the other man.

He expected Treize to side-step the swing. He could see the noble shift his weight instinctively. He'd seen his friend use the move many times, even with his damaged knee. Treize would grab Zechs wrist pivot and twist his arm behind his back pinning it there till he calmed. If they hadn't been such good friends the maneuver would have gained Zechs a broken arm. But they _were_ friends. And somewhere, in that insufferably honor-bound brain of his, Treize let emotion overrule instinct and stood his ground. Zechs was incredibly surprised to feel his fist actually impact square on the noble's jaw knuckles colliding hard against cheekbone.

The barbarian prince caught his breath in momentary shock at his actions and bit back a string of cures in his native tongue then started pacing again, wending his way between decorative shrubs and flowers almost to the arched colonnade that surrounded the garden before his steps tuned bring back again to the fountain. "Oh gods, what have I done? It is my fault. It is all my fault. I should have known. I am a prince of the Russ, It is my duty. It is no wonder Arri hates me. I am guilty…worthy of her distain. I should have made it my business to find out. All of this is really none of your concern. It is my responsibility, my failure. I should have…" Words poured from Zechs lips as his mind spiraled lost in the torrent of self-recrimination.

"This is precisely why I waited so long to tell you." Treize mumbled more to himself than his distraught companion. Louder he informed the blond whirlwind "I was not just sitting around doing nothing. I am the leader of the _Ordo Equestor_. I had those I trust scouring the countryside for news. I realize you would have liked to have been the one turning over every rock in the northland." The noble continued "I don't think I need to remind you of your status as peace-crafter. Ever since that debacle in the Teutoburg forest the Emperor has been keeping his eyes and ears alert for other northerners that may be turned toward the rebel cause. You my friend as, a compatriot and former acquaintance of Arminius, were high up on that watch list. The only one higher was Arminius's brother Flavus and more extreme measures were taken to ensure he couldn't turn against the Roman cause. You've spent enough time in the clutches of those _doctores_ of the arena. I'd rather face the lions myself than let the royal sorcerers take you. It was important you kept a low profile until the emperors interest waned.

Treize shook his head. "I knew there was no way in Hades I could keep you here if you knew the whole situation. Besides there is absolutely nothing you could have done about any of it. Till now I've had only rumors. But that missive Claudius brought from Germanous is the first concrete evidence I've managed to get. Now finally there is something we _can do_ about the situation. _Dēsistere Despēō!"_ (Latin: Cease this despair) This is not your fault. And never has been your fault. And the longer you persist in this endless pacing…the longer it will take for us to get our things together and be gone! Unless you would rather Festina lenta" (Latin: make haste slowly)

"Cyst ġe bindan swā macain iċ clǽne āwēdan." (A-S: Best hold fast or you'll make me entirely mad) Zechs growled but the frenzied gleam had left his eyes.

Treize laughed gently knowing he had weathered the worst of the storm. "Too late my old friend, you were like that when I met you." He smiled rubbing his tender jaw, "But I forgive you. Now should we begin collecting supplies? I expect the journey will not be easy and there is no telling what awaits us at the end of it."

Zechs nodded then frowned. "What about the others?"

"I've sent the word out," Treize admitted "The Knights of the Order will ensure those responsible for invading my home will feel my displeasure and reconsider such actions in future. With the villa secure I am certain Une is more than capable of managing the household in our absence. She's done it before. I hate to leave Marie I know she worries when I am called away but there is no help for it. Noin can see she keeps up with her studies and she'll be safe here. There is no such guarantee where our journey takes us. Still, I sense it would be a mistake leaving the lads to Lady's tender care."

Zechs scoffed at Treize's choice of words. But given his own experience with the overzealous house-steward he couldn't help but agree with Treize's reservations.

The noble noted Zechs' reaction and shrugged in understanding, "I have no doubt about our five possess ingenuity and resilience, but they are new to the household and will only learn their place by staying with us."

"So, we bring them?" The blonde clarified.

Treize nodded, "They are extraordinary lads. I'm sure they will be up to the task."

Treize and Zechs were both so occupied with the situation at hand neither noticed the slim form hidden in a shadowed niche behind a statue in the colonnade surrounding the garden. Intent violet eyes flashed in the shadow as he observed the scene unfold. And when the watcher had seen enough there was nothing but the telltale swish of a retreating braid to mark that he had been.

---------------------------

"Report!" Heero barked as soon as Duo returned to the dining chamber.

"They were both upset…Fighting?" Quatre guessed absently rubbing his chest in sympathy.

Duo nodded "Zechs tagged 'im but good, right in da' kisser. I don't think he meant to. Seein' big-T tangle I expect 'e could-a slipped it even a 'fore Fei-fei delt with 'is creaky hinge."

"What?" Heero scowled at the braided boy.

WuFei sighed. Being as linguistically attuned as he was, the eastern youth was aware Duo's language skills degenerated when he felt vulnerable. Something he felt an uncharacteristic urge to rectify, "He said master's Treize and Zechs had words which resulted in Treize allowing himself to be hit in the jaw. Zechs did not intend harm since Treize could have avoided the strike even had I not relieved the pain in his knee." the eastern youuth sighed expressively, "Gods save me from having to forever translate Max-wellian guttersnipe into common Latin! And the name is WU-FEI!"

"You know you like me Fei-babe." Duo announced laughingly rocking back and forth on his toes, dancing deftly away when the other boy lunged for his trailing braid.

"Will you two be serious for just a moment?" Heero growled raking tanned fingers through unruly hair. "What are we going to Do? Trowa and I must obey Zechs, he is our Lanista. As house slaves you and Quatre are directly under Treize. Duo is…I don't know what Duo is, but… Why were they angry with one another? What is this going to mean for US?! " he growled cobalt blue eyes demanding answers with which to combat the fear and doubt flicking about the fringes of his mind.

Sometimes Quatre hated his gift of being able to feel what was going on around him. Especially when he didn't know how to make what ever it was better. But Heero had made a valid point. "Yes Duo, WHY were they fighting?"

"They weren't really fighting. Big-T knew something important got swiped by some militant rogue type a while back, I think it was some sort o' shield thing-ie belonging to Zexie's king daddy. Not sure since they slipped a into Z's native lingo for a bit. Anyways he kept it to his-self and now that Z knows its gone he's all fired up to get it back--Thinks he's to blame for loosing it."

"But he isn't to blame." The interjection belonged to Treize; who entered unnoticed, with Zechs at his elbow. The blonde's cheeks were still a bit flushed and his hair tangled about his shoulders. But by in large the storm had passed and he was nearly back to his usually composed state. Treize looked impeccable ,of course, despite the noticeable bruise now marring his cheekbone. "And we are going to do what is necessary to retrieve the _Deor'linda. _ All I needed was a location and that we have thanks to Claudius." _(A-S meaning Precious Shield)_

"Y-you are leaving?" Quatre asked nervously.

Treize and Zechs exchanged knowing glances. "WE are leaving." Treize announced.

"All seven of us." His second appended. "It won't be an easy journey to the north. We will need your help."

Trowa, whose lanky form had been standing taunt as a drawn bow, relaxed visibly then a mild frown darkened his features. "Nanashi is still two young for such a journey…Do you think huntress Noin would mind continuing with his training with Mistress Marie while we are gone?" he asked quietly.

"An excellent Idea I am sure they would both be up for the challenge, provided you explain what they are to do and how to go about it." Treize smiled. "You are the expert after all."

Trowa's nod was slight, almost imperceptible. He was not accustomed to such high praise but it felt good, Very good. Green eyes shown brightly through his fall of hair and a slight smile ghosted across his lips.

"Now." Treize rubbed his hands together, "As for preparations, Lady can draw what we need to get started from the storerooms. We should carry enough for three days. We can make use of the way stations and re-supply as needed. I realize you are not all practiced horseman as Zechs and myself are but I suspect we can make the journey in a ten-day or so. Still, I can't say how long it will take us to find what we seek. If you'd rather stay here I'd understand. You need not fear a repeat of last night's events. My officers are on the alert now. We know the direction from which the danger came and they will ensure any and all threats are dealt with before they materialize--the Villa will be secure. I leave the choice up to you. Are you with me?"

The announcement was met by a chorus of affirmatives and one very bright, "Yes master!" Quatre had never done anything like this. Past masters would have deemed him 'too frail'. But he wasn't, not really—still, being allowed to join in on the adventure alongside the others felt like a privilege. The young blonde was determined Masters' Treize and Zechs would not come to regret their decision.

The group quickly broke up to gather the necessary supplies and gear. Zechs wanted to be on the road a bit before noon and once he got an idea in his mind it seemed little would deter him.

Chapter 19 notes

_Peristylium:_ Instead of surrounding their houses with large lawns and gardens, the Romans created their gardens inside their homes. The peristylium was an open courtyard within the house; the columns surrounding the garden supported a shady roofed portico whose inner walls were often embellished with elaborate wall paintings. Sometimes the lararium, a shrine for the gods of the household, was located in this portico, or it might be found in the atrium further inside. The courtyard might contain flowers and shrubs, fountains, benches, sculptures and even fish ponds.

The word Curse is actually derived from the _Anglo Saxon_ word "cursein" meaning "to invoke harm or evil upon" I expect there were many as is the case in any language.

Arminius (c.18 or 16 bc-ad 19 or 21), has been previously mentioned in this story. Here is a bit more info, and or a reminder of who is was. known in later ages as Hermann der Cherusker, was for a time an officer in the Roman service and a member of the equates. Upon returning to his homeland in north Germany in 9AD, as chief of the Cherussi, secretly gathered a great allied force and ambushed the legions of Publius Quintilius Varus in the Teutoburg Forest So great was the shock in Rome that it is said that Emperor Augustus afterward would start up from sleep, crying, "Varus, Varus, bring me back my legions!"

Though Arminius was eventually defeated by Germanicus in 16 AD, Arminius was able to maintain himself, and after Germanicus' withdrawal he re-established his power. The Romans never again made any real effort to absorb the territory east of the Rhine. Arminius fell prey to factional infighting and was assassinated by rivals in ad 21. His wife Thusnelda was captured by Germanicus and confined in Rome, The son she bore Arminius while in captivity, Thumelicus, was trained by the Romans as a gladiator in Ravenna and probably died in the arena. Tacitus, the modern source for Arminius, glorified him as a noble barbarian. In the romantic period German nationalists made much of Arminius, who became a major national hero

"Festina lenta": The writer Suetonius attributes this bit of wisdom to Emperor Augustus, It means to move cautiously step by step to accomplish a given ends. Augustus' ultimate goal was to transform the Roman republic into an empire. We all know Treize is capable of such things as is our stormy prince. But the methodical approach to problems only gets you so far And Zechs isn't called the lightning count for nothing. Once riled, watch out!


	20. Setting Out

Chapter 20: Setting Out

There were ten horses snorting and stamping about in the cobblestone forecourt of Ville Kushrenada. Seven were bearing sturdy saddles. The wooden frames were padded filled horsehair and covered with tanned leather. Light travel bags hung from the four horns on the saddle all they required now were riders. Two of the horses were heavier laden as pack animals with shovel, pick ax, rope, and tents, extra food, cook-pots, water-skins and various other things. The final horse wore nothing but a harness and back pad. It was tethered to the one of the lead beasts as a remount incase one of the other animals met with mischief.

Anyone with even a modicum of knowledge with regard to horseflesh would note all; even those equipped with baggage, were exquisite creatures, well bread and trained to exacting standards. Trowa had walked around the small herd three or four times already deciding which mount would best suit which rider. All were extremely well behaved and he would expect nothing less.

"_Hast thou beheld, when from the jail they start,  
__The youthful charioteers with beating heart  
__Rush to the race: and panting scarcely bear,  
__The extremes of feverish hopes and chilling fear;  
__Stoop to the reins and lash with all their force;  
__The flying chariot kindles in the course.  
__And now a-low and now a-loft they fly,  
__As borne through air and seem to touch the sky."_

The soft spoken slave recited. He thought himself alone or he never would have dared give voice to the musings in his head. He did in no way expect his master to step from the arched doorway of the infirmary and continue on with the verse where he had left off. Trowa froze in his tracks, fear shimmering in emerald eyes. He had rarely felt so exposed.

"_No stop no stay; but clouds of sand arise,  
__Spurned and cast backwards on the viewers eyes:  
__The hindmost blows the foam upon the first:  
__Such is the love of praise and honorable thirst."_ Treize grinned with delight. "My, my Trowa, I wasn't aware you knew the works of Virgil. Do you know Theocritus As well?"

"I can't say my Lord," the youth said finding the cobblestones beneath his feet unaccountably interesting. "One of the performers in the Circus Maximus taught me that bit when sleep would not come so readily to those of us in the cells. I don't know where she learned it—the Arena bound aren't typically schooled in such things. Still, I recognize these beasts for what they are, Chariot horses of the Olympiad--Zechs did point out the laurels in the Vestibulum. You are a champion and it was these fair beasts which carried you to victory."

"That was a long time ago," Treize sighed his noble voice reflected his longing for days past as he quoted the poet he had mentioned previously.

"_To drive the Chariot, and with steady skill  
__To turn, and yet not break the bending wheel,  
__Amphytrio kindly did instruct his son.  
__Great in that art; for he himself had won  
__Vast precious prizes on the Argive plains:  
__And still the chariot which he drove remains,  
__Never hurt in its course, although time has broke the falling reins."_

"No chariot for this trip, or cart either, they would be nothing but a hardship once we get into the mountain regions." Treize pointed out casually. "Zechs wants to travel quickly and it will be better without a cart bumbling along behind."

The conversation ended when the door behind Treize opened to reveal Lady Anne Une. Perched on one leather clad fist was a golden eagle and two wolves trailed in her wake. Trowa recognized the animals immediately as they shared the menagerie with Nanashi. Most birds of prey were implacable standoffish creatures that only just tolerated human caretakers. This one was no different from what the beast lord had come to expect. But seeing the silver-furred male Alpha and brindled female cavorting like pups behind the matronly house-Steward, was something of a surprise. Trowa was near stunned that the horses hadn't bolted at the slightest scent of wolf.

Seeing the slave boy's surprise Treize Volunteered, "My team have known Bryn, Argent and Fire since they were young. It took some doing, but we've been hunting together for many years." He explained as the She-wolf broke away to nuzzle her master's palm. "They will be accompanying us."

Trowa didn't know what to say. That Treize had managed to get creatures, natural enemies from birth, to not just co exist but to work together was nothing short of miraculous…After achieving such feat, Mastering five incredible diverse slaves…ought to have been child's play. Thankfully Trowa didn't have to respond since Zechs and the others emerged from the villa as well and went about securing the rest of the equipment to their mounts and making ready to set out.

---------------

Treize swung lightly into the saddle and Une held the leather jesses attached to the eagle's ankles in her fist as she handed the bird to Treize. He smoothed the mighty creatures feathers then cast it aloft. He watched the eagle soar in great lazy circles, the sun seemed to burnish the golden feathers turning them red, for this reason it was aptly named 'Fire'. His father and grandfather were adept in reading the great birds. Treize himself had been schooled in the augur's art as well but he didn't truly believe studying the flight of the birds was the key to interpret the will of the gods. He had little use for the various and sundry pantheons in the same way he suspected that the birds themselves could care less about the affairs of men. But not all knowledge was superstition; Birds knew about wind and cared quite a bit about weather. And now, Fire's leisurely flight could and did tell him that it wasn't likely to rain for the rest of the day.

"I've the map and medical supplies from Sally in my pack." Zechs confirmed scooping Mariemaia up so she could kiss her father good-bye. "Love you Pappa." She snuffled, trying very hard to act brave. Her red rimmed eyes and runny nose were proof that she was rapidly loosing ground in that battle.

Zechs gave her a brief hug also and gently ruffled her hair. After setting her down he went to see if the others needed any help getting into the saddle.

"If I can ride a camel I can ride a horse…I'm sure I can." Quatre was insisting as he approached the sandy colored mount with defiance in his stance. Duo didn't look so sure he held awe and not a little fear for his midnight stallion . Heero was resolute on his white mare and WuFei rode his brown 'like he was 'half-centaur.' It was Zechs who initially made the observation and had likely intended it as a compliment. But Duo, probably in effort to ease the building tension had twisted the man's words into a snide comment about which half he suspected the dark eyed dragon most resembled. It wasn't much of a joke and the two slaves had been bickering ever since.

Trowa signed. In his opinion wasting words in that fashion generally made a situation worse, not better. He made a habit of speaking only when he had something to say…like now. He unobtrusively caught Noin's attention, "You are a daughter of the arena, I trust You will look after Nanashi." he said as if trying to reassure himself of the fact as much as her. They had spoken of it earlier but letting go of beasts in his care had always been difficult; especially since it was so often to see them enraged and sent into the ring to kill or be killed for reasons they were incapable of understanding.

"I will do everything just as you said. Marie will assist me. It will be good to have something to keep her occupied. She always pines when Treize has to go away. I think she is afraid he won't come back and she'll have to go back to her Grandfather Dekim."

Trowa's entire body tensed at the suggestion. "You _won't_ let that happen." He frowned. "Master Treize says the villa is secure. He trusts his soldiers to guard you all. But I know Lord Barton. He strikes at any perceived weakness. If something happens and we don't come back when expected It might nor be safe for you to stay here. If things get dangerous go to Sylvia Noventa. Tell her your troubles and she will shield you till we come back."

"How do you know lady Noventa?" Noin's eyes widened.

"Have you heard the ballad of the lady and the tiger?" The green eyed beast lord asked.

Noin nodded as he suspected she would. "It was an odd type of love story."

Odd indeed, Young Master Barton had found the story terribly amusing and saw it made rounds around the court in the past year. It was a way of irritating his father in a backhanded way; As his Dekim Barton had proposed a spectacle to be held in the arena where an accused criminal was asked to choose between two identical doors. Behind one was a beautiful maiden to be his bride…behind the other was a ravenous tiger that would rip him to shreds. His former master had added a second verse introducing a princess who had been the condemned man's love interest…That part had never been in Cathy's original telling of the story. And he ignored the ending all together leaving the audience to decide which door the criminal opened. All but the select group of Imperial guests and members of the Fellows of Rome thought the song to be mere entertainment…an exercise in rhetoric. But He knew better.

"It was a love story, but it didn't play out exactly as the story was told. Sylvia was the lady who inspired the tale. General Noventa dared go against the senate. Barton had Lady Sylvia kidnapped and kept for weeks in the cells of the Circus Maximus. Finally the general was made to surrender himself to get back his fiancée; But to do that he had to play their game. When faced with two identical doors –he chose the correct door because Cathy marked the doorpost with perfume when no one was looking.

Trowa sighed before continuing, "But Barton didn't play fair either and loosed the tiger anyway. The general was mauled rather badly during the escape. I heard he lost an arm. I was the one who patched the tiger up after the battle...she was only vicious because Barton took her cubs away. While a prisoner in the arena Sylvia was kind to both Cathy and I. But do not doubt she is as much a tigress as the beast Barton set against them. If you are trouble while we are gone go to them and they will do what ever they can to help. You will be safe."

The arena huntress raised a dark brow "You be safe too, look after…each other." she ordered though the sharp-eyed beast-master thought her gaze might have lingered a bit longer on a certain barbarian prince as she said the words.

He nodded silently and mounted the spirited rust colored stallion he had chosen for himself and took his place in the column between Heero and Zechs. The large blonde had Duo's horse by the halter, doing the 'driving' till the other boy was a bit more at ease in the saddle while WuFei kept a careful eye on Quatre. Trowa was reasonably confident Heero was at least competent in the saddle. But having rarely had the opportunity to do more than ride circuits in the arena, his stamina would be pushed to the extreme during the course of this trip.

---------------------------

"You are sure you have everything you need?" Une asked Treize with a stern frown.

"My Dear Lady, I am a veteran Campaigner, You seem to forget there was a time I managed an entire Legion. I am surely capable of organizing a mission of this sort. Besides which, there are plenty of way-stations and towns along the Via where we can get anything we might have forgotten. Relax." He chided then, like a mischievous child he reached out and snatched the hairpin from her head releasing the bun so the brunette mass tumbled down in waves over her shoulders. "You are too tense." He laughed. The harsh lines of her face softened when she smiled. Then with a sharp whistle Treize recalled the eagle to his fist then transferred it on the bed-roll lashed behind his saddle. He secured the leather jesses to the padding so those wickedly sharp talons couldn't cause mischief to man or beast.

"Do be careful Master Treize." Lady Ann sighed and taking Mariemia's hand in her own. "I'll take care of everything while you are gone."

He acknowledged the statement with a nod and turned his horse toward the gate. With another sharp whistle he beckoned his team forward as a cohesive unit. It was true Treize hadn't raced competitively since his accident but he and Zechs saw the horses still knew the drills as well as any warhorse in the legion. This fact was especially useful now, when traveling with inexperienced riders. The horses knew how to hold formation and execute his commands even if the boys currently astride them did not. They would learn, of course and before this trip was over they would likely possess true mastery over the beasts. But for now, this was the simplest way.

"Move out!" Treize commanded, and the journey north was begun.

Chapter 20 notes

"The Lady or the Tiger?" is a famous short story written by Frank R. Stockton in 1882. If you are not familiar with it, here is a brief summary;

The King of an ancient land utilized an unusual form of administering justice for offenders in his kingdom. The offender would be placed in an arena where his only way out would be to go through one of two doors. Behind one door was a beautiful woman hand-picked by the king and behind the other was a fierce tiger. The offender was then asked to pick one of the doors, without knowing what was behind it. If he picked the door with the woman behind it, then he was declared innocent but was also required to marry the woman, regardless of previous marital status. If he picked the door with the tiger behind it, though, then he was deemed guilty and the tiger would rip him to pieces.

One day the king found that his daughter, the princess, had taken a lover far beneath her station. The king could not allow this and so he threw the offender in prison and set a date for his trial in the arena. On the day of his trial the suitor looked to the princess for some indication of which door to pick. The princess, did, in fact, know which door concealed the woman and which one the tiger, but was faced with a conundrum. If she indicated the door with the tiger, then the man she loved would be killed on the spot; however, if she indicated the door with the lady, her lover would be forced to marry another woman, a woman that the princess deeply hates and believes her lover has flirted with. Finally she does indicate a door, which the suitor then opens.

At this point the question is posed to the reader, "Did the tiger come out of that door, or did the lady?". The question is not answered, and is left as a thought experiment regarding human nature. From its publication and surprise ending, "The Lady, or the Tiger?" has come into the English language as an expression, meaning an unsolvable problem.

.

---------------------

I had did quite a lot of study about the various routes of the roman roads and had several prospective routes mapped out. However much of history has been lost in the sands of time, on covered over by the modern settlements it is not as easy to map out as had hoped. I also realized that the journey itself could become an epic all its own -- distracting from the overall direction of the story. I had to make a hard choice; In the interest of time I am not going to tell you every step of the journey north. As most of it is uneventful. Instead I will be concentrating instead on the most important aspects of the trip. The Settings where action takes place are model after real places, or hybrids of several places I have read about but may not be located where our modern map says they should be since our heroes will take a more hypothetical that historical route.

Before the journey begins here are a few facts you may find interesting.

The Romans and ancient travelers in general did not use maps. They may have existed as specialty items in some of the libraries, but they were hard to copy and were not in general use. On the Roman road system, however, the traveler needed some idea of where he was going, how to get there, and how long it would take. Milestones permitted distances and locations to be known and recorded exactly. The words we translate as mile are milia passuum, "one thousand of paces", which amounted to about 1620 yards, 1480 meters A milestone, or miliarium, was a circular column on a solid rectangular base, set two feet into the ground, standing several feet high, 20" in diameter, weighing about 2 tons. At the base was inscribed the number of the mile relative to the road it was on. In a panel at eye-height was the distance to the forum at Rome and other information.

My research has indicated that on average pedestrians could manage about 25 miles per day. Carts could travel about 40 miles per day (5 miles an hour), a rider on horseback could travel about 50 miles in a day or twice that if you didn't care about the horse or more if you could change horse frequently. Every 15 to 18 miles along the most heavily trafficked roman roads were government maintained way stations called mansions ("staying places") for use by officials or people on official business. There the official traveler found a complete villa dedicated to his refreshment and Passports were required for identification.

Non-official travelers needed refreshment too, and at the same locations along the road. so a private system of cauponae were placed near the mansiones. They performed the same functions but were somewhat disreputable, as they were frequented by thieves and prostitutes. Genteel travelers needed something better than cauponae. In the early days of the viae, when little unofficial existed, houses placed near the road were required by law to offer hospitality on demand. Frequented houses no doubt became the first tabernae, which were hostels, rather than the "taverns" we know today.

One useful tool for navigating milestones is the itinerarium. It was simply a list of what could be found along a given road. The very best featured symbols for cities, way stations, water courses, and so on. the Romans drew diagrams of parallel lines showing the branches of the roads. Parts of these were copied and sold on the streets. They cannot be considered maps, as they did not represent landforms In fact they very much resemble what we use to depict subway or bus routes.

Roman architecti preferred to engineer solutions to obstacles rather than circumvent them. River crossings were achieved by bridges, or pontes. Single slabs went over rills. A bridge could be of wood, stone, or both. Wooden bridges were constructed on pilings sunk into the river, or on stone piers. Larger or more permanent bridges required arches. Roman bridges were so well constructed that many are in use today. Causeways were built over marshy ground. The road was first marked out with pilings. Between them were sunk large quantities of stone so as to raise the causeway 6 feet above the marsh. In the provinces, the Romans often did not bother with a stone causeway, but used log roads (pontes longi). Outcroppings of stone, ravines, or hilly or mountainous terrain called for cuttings and tunnels. Roman roads generally went straight up and down hills, rather than in a serpentine pattern. Grades of 10%-12% are known in ordinary terrain, 15%-20% in mountainous country.

The beauty and grandeur of the roads might tempt us to believe that any Roman citizen could use them for free, but this was not the case. Tolls abounded, especially at bridges. Often they were collected at the city gate. Freight was made heavier still by import and export taxes. These were only the charges for using the roads. Costs of services on the journey went up from there.


	21. Deviation

Chapter 21 Deviation

Since the villa Kushrenada was located just slightly northwest of Rome itself there was no need to backtrack to Porta del Popolo to begin their journey instead they could follow the rural route of the Via Flaminia as it wound its way through flowery meadows and olive groves. Treize kept the pace easy so the boys could get better acquainted with their mounts. He practiced the various commands with them, forming the team from a stretched out line to a wedge formation then into a horizontal line which came together in a diamond shape. The wolves paced them easily, though they ranged some distance from the road, disappearing all together when the highway became too congested

The road was replete all manner of traffic from Lumbering Ox carts piled high with grain grown in _Val Padana_ (the Po valley) to brightly gilded carpentum which were the conveyance of the noble patricians. Drivers shouted and swore mules brayed, sheep being driven to market added to the chaos. The nobles complained and their carriage men used their whips to urge fellow travelers out of the way as often as they did their beasts. And that is not even taking into account the throngs of foot traffic, messengers running full tilt, slaves about their masters business, and tradesmen of all description.

The sight, the sound and most markedly the smell of so many individuals practically stacked nose to tail was definitely an assault on the senses; Treize never seen the congestion quite this bad. All his attention was bound on keeping the members of his household together. He was glad they had practiced the formations when they had the chance because the diamond shape was just the thing to shoulder other commuters out of their way. Even so, he had to call Bryn and Argent to heel, the two wolves positioned themselves practically beneath the legs of his long-suffering Epion for the time it took to cross the majestic span of the Pons Mulvius (Milvian bridge), over the river Tiber.

The sun was beginning to sink when they finally broke out of the press and forged ahead into the dense forests that clothed the range of the Appennini. They had passed the Aquaviva way-station several miles back but it looked so crowded and the public houses smelled of refuse better left alone. It was not difficult for Zechs to convince the others to make the most of the remaining daylight and press onward to Aequum Faliscum.

The wolves vanished into the woods and the road continued to climb up to the softly, rounded ridges of the lesser mountains. The miles stretched on and the way station did not appear. Treize's frown deepened and finally he called the column to a halt to refer to the itinerarium Germanous had sent with his brother to guide them to Augusta Vindelicorum.

Very quickly Treize was giving voice to a string of Greek curses his tutors had never intended for him to learn, not to mention more than a few he picked up from Zechs and others while on campaign.

"Something the matter?" Duo asked needlessly.

"We're lost." Treize frowned.

"Lost!" Zechs tightened his grip on the reigns and his mount shied nervously under him. "How is that possible?" the blonde demanded.

"I've been keeping careful count of the milestones as we've been riding by, but since we are in something of a hurry and mounted rather than traveling afoot, I had not been taking the time to read each and every one we pass. Most just record who had it constructed and which local Lord is responsible for its upkeep. Unfortunately I did note the last marker, and it clearly stated this is the Via Cassia, not the Via Flaminia, as I had thought. The two roads diverge and we must have missed it." Treize admitted frustration coloring his cultured tones, "If we had stayed on the way of the flame we might have already reached the point where the Via Annia passes along the coast. But instead of crossing the Apennines this road follows along them. I really don't want to have to backtrack if we don't have too. But if we pres onward Germanous' itinerary is practically useless until we find the Via Augusta." The noble ground out. "I suspect we may have made it into the lower fringes of Cispadane Gaul. If that is true than I may be able to use that sketch Sally made detailing the area around the Po river valley. There may be another pass we can use to join up with the Via Amerina on the other side and take that to the Via Claudia Augusta."

"Oh, you think it will take you long to figure out?" Duo asked toying with his reigns.

"Why?" Treize asked with a mild frown.

"Wellll," the boy drew the word out in a long sigh, "I'm sure this here is a mighty fine animal you've let me ride, but I'm no horse-boy. My rear _has_ been communing with death for the past hour and a nice walk might be enough to lure it back from the underworld. Besides, it looks like there are some nifty ruins just up the way there, a bit off the road. If we've got some time it might be fun to explore."

Treize was well aware the braided youth had re-christened his mount 'Death' some time ago due to the aching in his lower back, legs and most especially rear. He was confident the boys would all grow accustom to the ache before too long. So Treize chose to ignore the boy's comment on the lamentable condition of his posterior but his clear blue eyes scanned the tree line. "Ruins hmm?" Since the boy had pointed them out Treize noted the tumble of rectangular blocks amid a scant covering of ivy and scrub. "Ah yes, I'd say it was a settlement of the Falisci or Etruschi."

From the little bit he could discern through the trees It looked to have been an extensive settlement. "Most likely Etruscan. They were a fiercely proud and independent people who ruled this area not terribly long ago. Before settling in these lands their ancestors built the towers of Troy. Most of their settlements are on hillsides in areas where the old roads converge. Tarquinius the Proud was their last king and there are still some people scattered about who have not forgotten him. This place looks to have been abandoned some seven to ten years ago. Still if there were an old road I expect this would be a good place to begin looking for it. While I go over the map you boys can stretch your legs a bit and see of you can find anything. But don't stray too far," the noble cautioned. "I'll call you back in a little while." Treize loosed his eagle from the pad behind his saddle and cast it aloft to hunt knowing it would return of its own accord. He had tried to free both eagles after his father's death but they had been hand reared and although they knew how to fend for themselves they never stayed gone for long.

The slaves agreed and He and Zechs led the horses off the road and through what had likely been the gate to the once walled city. Beyond it was an open clearing with plenty of tumbled stone blocks large enough to serve as a table. Zechs spread out the map so they could examine it in detail.

As soon as they settled the wolves appeared from wherever they had been prowling and lay beside their master, eyes bright in hopes of getting scratched. Both men were happy to oblige them.

-------------------

Duo was the first to come bounding out of the wood at Treize's call. "Look what I found!" he grinned proudly held out a handful of glass beads, a few copper coins, a bronze cloak pin in the shape of sleeping lion and last, but not least, a small filigree earring that looked to have been made of gold.

"Very nice," Treize agreed. "Where did you find them?"

"They weren't grave goods if that is what you are thinking. I might have poked around in the crypts, I like to look at the statues, but I wouldn't steal from them. My patron is the god of death after all. These things were in the ruined houses. There was lots of pottery and other stuff too. Looks to me like who ever lived here didn't take much with them when they left. There is even a big old bronze bed frame."

Heero came walking balanced atop a segment of the defensive wall that, although crumbled and weather worn, still toped Zechs head by at least an arm's length. The gladiator crouched down peering at the others, "What I've seen confirms that. Some of the stone and wood dwellings look to have been damage by fire. Parts of the wall were purposely dismantled as well. I'd say we are looking at the aftermath of a battle." He said then jumped down, landing neatly with his feet together.

"I may have found a road up that way." WuFei interjected pointing farther east, away from the city proper. "That is the way we want to go isn't it?"

"Yes," Zechs looked relieved.

"Oi Cat," Duo greeted the younger blonde. "What have you got there?"

Quatre approached carefully. He held the hem of his tunic gripped in both hands so it could serve as some sort of impromptu basket. "I found an orange tree. The fruit is just so juicy and sweet I wanted to share. Would you like some?" he knelt on the hard packed soil careful not to dump the fruit.

"Sure thing Q I never turn down a snack." Duo relieved the other boy of two of the fist sized oranges. The others were quick to follow in suit peeling away the thin skin, to reveal ruby colored flesh.

"Delicious." Treize announced. "I love blood oranges. This was a surprising find, especially this late in the season."

"Now we won't have to stop for lunch." Zechs smiled licking some of the sticky juice from his fingers. To his mind, they were already behind schedule. He was more than willing to see anything that would speed their journey as a blessing. "Ready to get back on the road?" he asked hopefully.

Quatre sighed resigned, rose to his feet and brushed himself off.

WuFei snickered to himself since none of the others seemed to have heard the perpetually sunny blonde mumbling something about the trials of making friends with a "thick-skull-ed, rock-hard, lump-less, camel."

"Now Quatre, don't be so tense," the former temple slave suggested. "If you are nervous or uncomfortable, the horse will know. Would you like me to give you a few pointers?" the blonde nodded mutely so WuFei continued, "Duo and I have both given names to our mounts. Have you done so?"

"No" the Quatre mumbled.

"Names have power…" WuFei began then seemed to recall who he was speaking to and changed his tactic mid stream, "How do you expect to make friends with him if you don't even care to know his name?" he asked, "You've got to move as one…Part of a team. Don't fight it."

"Sandrock then," Quatre sighed as if patronizing the other boy.

"Not me, Look into his eyes and tell _him_ what his name is." WuFei told him.

Quatre, more familiar with camels was understandably reluctant to place himself too near the front end of the mount that bore him. "Horses don't spit--" the other slave reminded as he positioned Quatre before the buff coated stallion. "--and Treize's are too well mannered to bite or kick unless commanded to."

Deep blue eyes met warm brown and Quatre drew closer, soft velvety nose brushed his cheek. Warm breath ruffled his sun-kissed hair and the boy breathed in, surprised. "Sandrock." This time the name was said with awe, "My dear Sand-rock."

"I think he will have an easier time of it now." WuFei informed his master. "We just have to get him to stop worrying about where the horse is putting his feet and keep his eyes focused on where he is going and we'll be able to move at a much smoother pace. Are we just about ready?"

"We're still waiting for Trowa." Treize pointed out. The Beast master was normally so quiet; He easily faded into the background. The noble wouldn't have been at all surprised if the others had simply taken it for granted that the young man occupied the nearest patch of shadow. But seeing as that wasn't the case…

"Hay Tro!" Duo shouted at the top of his lungs. "Hurry-yup already! I'm gonna eat your snack! Oranges juicy and sweet…perfect fruit for jug-ling." His voice echoed off the stone and was lost in the surrounding woodland, but the missing youth did not appear.

"I hope he didn't take it into his head to run off." Treize frowned.

"If he did there will be further delay while we chase him down." Zechs voiced his thoughts aloud. Running his fingers nervously through his hair "Then, he'll have to be punished." The slaves weren't accustomed to seeing the tall man looking so serious. "Gods please don't let him have run off." Zech sighed then seemingly remembering where he was and asked, "Did anyone see which way he went?"

Quatre closed his eyes as if in concentration then gasped stumbling several paces backward clutching his hand to his breast. "Trowa!" the word was half cry. And all color had drained from the boy's face. "Find him. Find him quickly!" the blonde found it difficult to catch his breath. WuFei and Duo both reached to steady the suddenly fragile looking youth. "That way I think." Quatre pointed deeper into the ruins.

Zechs was already in motion, moving in the direction his cousin had indicated. Treize looked torn between the urge to find his lost slave and the need to assist his distressed one.

"I'll go too." Heero volunteered and hastily rose to catch up with the long-legged blonde.

Chapter 21 notes

For purposes of description, Roman vehicles can be divided into the car, the coach and the cart. Cars were used to transport one or two individuals, coaches were used to transport parties, and carts to transport cargo.

Of the cars, the most popular was the carrus ("car"), a standard chariot form descending to the Romans from a greater antiquity. The top was open, the front closed. One survives in the Vatican. It carried a driver and a passenger. A carrus of two horses was called a biga; of three horses, a triga; and of four horses a quadriga. The tires were of iron and the wheels could be removed when not in use for easier storage. A more luxurious version, the carpentum, transported women and officials. It had an arched overhead covering of cloth and was drawn by mules. A lighter version, the cisium, equivalent to a gig, was open above and in front and had a seat. Drawn by one or two mules or horses, it was used for cab work, the cab drivers being called cisiani. The builder was a cisarius.

Of the coaches, the mainstay was the raeda or reda, which had 4 wheels. The high sides formed a sort of box in which seats were placed, with a notch on each side for entry. It carried several people with baggage up to the legal limit of 1000 pounds. It was drawn by teams of oxen, horses or mules. A cloth top could be put on for weather, in which case it resembled a covered wagon. The raeda was probably the main vehicle for travel on the roads. Raedae meritoriae were hired coaches. The fiscalis raeda was a government coach. The driver and the builder were both named a raedarius.

Of the carts, the main one was the plaustrum or plostrum. This was simply a platform of boards attached to wheels and a cross-tree. The wheels, or tympana, were solid and were several inches thick. The sides could be built up with boards or rails. A large wicker basket was sometimes placed on it. A two-wheel version existed along with the normal 4-wheel type called the plaustrum maius.

--------------------

The events in this chapter and the next were originally written to occur in the ruins of an Etruscan settlement at the intersection of several prominent roman roads (modern Firenze.) The site was abandoned in around 5 BC and no roman settlement replaced it. I changed the route realizing Firenze was too far north for a first stop. Instead I had our party discover the ruins of Falerii (now Civita Castellana) This was one of the twelve chief cities of Etruria, situated about one mile west of the ancient Via Flaminia, c. 50 km north of Rome. The Falisci, often allied with the Etruscans, and resisted the dominion of Rome for long time. Wars between them appear to have been frequent. I expect there were many abandoned settlements this part of the country where these chapters could have taken place.

The town of Falerii was situated on a plateau, about 1100 m by 400, not higher than the surrounding country (140 m) but separated from it by gorges over 60 m in depth, and only connected with it on the western side, which was strongly fortified with a mound and ditch; the rest of the city was defended by walls constructed of rectangular blocks of tufa, of which some remains still exist. Remains of a temple were found at Lo Scasato, at the highest point of the ancient town. Others excavations on the outskirts have revealed building of wooden construction, with fine decorations of colored terracotta. Numerous tombs hewn in the rock are visible on all sides of the town. Important discoveries have been made in them and many objects, both from the temples and from the tombs, can be found in the Museo di Villa Giulia at Rome.

-------------------

Orange trees are semitropical non-deciduous trees and, like other citrus fruits, they probably originated in Southeast Asia. Cultivation of oranges gradually spread through China and India to east Africa and then to the Mediterranean region. They were prominent commodities during the Roman Empire. Oranges became widely distributed throughout the Mediterranean basin during the Arab dominance of the area during the ninth and tenth centuries.

Italian Blood oranges tend to contain few seeds, have red-pigmented flesh and peel that can cause a "blush" of pigment when the peel is damaged or removed. The appearance of the red flesh and deep red juice can be striking. Usually the inside of the fruit is darkly pigmented. When ripe, the skin can also exhibit a reddish blush to a deep-red cast, depending on the variety. The red pigmentation varies with climate and can be intense when blood oranges are grown in regions with large diurnal temperature fluctuations (hot days, cold nights such as can occur in mountainous regions). History tells us the first blood oranges appeared in the sunny groves of Sicily in the South of Italy sometime during the 17th century but like to conjecture that, If the conditions existed there might have been groves early on that simple weren't documented.

------------------


	22. Found Lost

Chapter 22 Found Lost

Heero was quick to realize the ruins were much larger than they he had glimpsed from atop the fragmentary curtain wall. Now that he was down in them he quickly lost track of their progress through the labyrinthine twists and turns of streets, ruined dwellings and debris. Cobalt blue eyes scanned the tumble of stone, bricks and rotting wood that had likely been shops or houses in a once thriving settlement.

Of Trowa they found no sign and it was disconcerting that the only 'intelligence' they had going into this 'mission' was the _feeling_ Quatre had that the other slave was, in fact, in this direction. Not that he would gainsay the petite blonde's instincts, following one's heart was all well and good. Zechs Trusted his cousin's ability, but Heero much preferred acting on concrete _data_. (latin: given/proven information)

This aimless running about made him uneasy. There was no telling what trouble the other youth had gotten into and at this pace they would likely stumble into the midst of it before they could properly evaluate the situation. "We're going about this all wrong." He realized slowing his steps to a walk.

"Trowa?" Heero called. No where near as loud as Duo had shouted earlier, that noise had sent birds in flight. Heero wasn't so boisterous an individual. He moved down a few more streets and called again, louder this time--Still nothing.

Zechs and Heero made their way deeper into the warren of alleyways. "Where are you?!" the blonde exclaimed frustration in his voice. "Trooowa!"

"Stupid nameless _Retarii_," Heero grumbled kicking a half rotted piece of wood in frustration. "You said you would always recognize that name. Always respond. You promised." Heero's eyes felt moist. Could it be he had actually come to care for the other arena slave?"

"Nameless?" Zechs asked with a frown. He'd doubtless encountered other nameless fighters during his time in the arena and invariably what ever had happened to place one in that position was never a good thing.

"Hn," Heero nodded in agreement then felt his usual response might need a qualifier or two. "He told me he recalls nothing of life before the arena. Master Barton insisted on calling him 'No name,' lorded it over him in point of fact."

"Then perhaps a different tack, is in order" the blond threw back his head and shouted "Non-nomine!" (Latin for 'no name')

Zechs was about to call again when Heero stilled him. "I thought I heard something, this way!"

Heero's careful direction led them to what was likely the worst devastated area of the city. Backed up against what had likely been the postern gate in the exterior wall. Burn marks and ash covered much of the stone work and there looked to be human bones scattered among the other detritus. And there was Trowa.

In shadow of a toppled statue that might have been a lion or possibly a chimera, the youth knelt. His body curled in on itself. His shoulders shuddered spasmodically. His lips moved but no sound came from them. His green-eyes were wide but unseeing. Several Hands breadths from his clenched fists lay a festival mask that had likely been brightly painted at one time. But weather had faded the colors and the mask itself was split down the center from top to bottom.

Seeing his companion so obviously distraught took Heero completely off guard. "I-I don't know what to do." He whispered meekly his arms moving in a helpless gesture. Trowa had been there for him when the emotional tide threatened to overwhelm him, but he felt entirely ill-equipped to return the favor.

Zech's mouth formed into a line of firm resolve and he nodded in understanding. The tall man moved cautiously toward the unmoving youth, Heero trailing in his wake.

As they approached, it was clear the words trailing near-silently from the other's lips had not been cast in the Latin tongue. "_Atiu, Apau, __Mi clthl."_ Heero couldn't understand the words but the tone and inflection alone made his breath catch in his throat. He had never heard such despair given voice.

"I think he's speaking _Tusci_ the language of the Etruscans. Zechs reflected, "Lady is Etruscan… though she insists her people were called_ Rasenna _and her language'_Raśna'_ Her name 'Une' means 'Gift'. she was only about eleven when the old lord bought her to serve at the Villa but she still speaks tusci to Treize from tim to time. I have picked up a bit of what listening to them. I hadn't realized our Trowa shared her heritage—He should not have been left alone in this place.

"I don't think he knew either. Do you understand what he is saying?" Heero asked tugging on his lip uncertainly.

"I wish I didn't." Zechs shivered. "_'__Atiu' and 'Apau' _he's calling for his parents, using the informal forms as a child might. _'Mi Clithl._' That is 'I'm here' Zechs approached the kneeling youth cautiously. _"Mi Clithl."_ He echoed again trying to lend as much comfort and reassurance into those two foreign words. He crouched down and crept as close as he could hoping not to startle the boy.

Trowa's gaze cast right then left but his green-eyes were unfocused as if he were staring back to another time…another life perhaps. "_Sa Themias, atrSce, iunaSie,"_ the green eyed boy whimpered _"Heva Ziva "_

Zechs eyes were brimming with tears as he gently eased his arms around the shuddering youth. "_lunaSie,_ shhh, _iunaSie"_ The barbarian prince crooned rocking the unresponsive youth slightly. (hush now. You are safe) For Heero's benefit he translated "He says he obeyed. He stayed hidden, still and quiet," his voice cracked as he finished, "everyone is dead."

Heero's knees felt week and instead of fighting the unaccustomed sensation he permitted his body to bring him to kneel beside his stricken comrade "You are not alone." He told the other boy though he doubted Trowa was thinking in Latin. He took the boy's cold clammy hand in his own and pressed it against his chest thinking that if Trowa could could perhaps feel the beating of his heart he would know not everyone was dead..

Trowa's long thin fingers did curl slightly weakly clutching the cloth of his tunic. _"Apa, Ati saniSva. __Laru Lauci lupu-ce__." _He whispered.

"Mother and father are dead, as one who cuts Blooms to die." Zechs intoned solemnly.

Then there was a flash of anger in Trowa's evergreen eyes. He struck out and struggled but Zechs held him fast. _"Ecn aum aurina, hinthial, Sa pera mi ara-pera, hupni!" The_ boy exclaimed anger and frustration coloring his quiet voice.

"I agree." Zechs admitted. "This _is_ a wretched town, a place of spirits." Trowa's struggles stopped but he still didn't seem particularly aware of either of them. Zechs turned to Heero and explained "He knows this place, his house and those belonging to his relatives, are ruins nothing but ghosts--Reflections of the soul."

"We shouldn't stay here then. This is no place for the living." Heero shook his head "Do you think you can carry him?"

"I don't think that will be a problem." That brief spate of struggle seemed to tax the disrought youth beyond endurance and he fell listless once more. Zechs shifted his lanky form more onto his lap, "You know it gets wearying at times towering head and shoulders above nearly everyone I meet. But being my size does have advantages." Once he had gotten Trowa situated he lifted him to balance against his hip with the same ease he would carry Marie.

"_Ruvi, Cathe, Mimi Catharnai!"_ the slave mumbled weakly. As if trying to call out but he simply didn't have the strength, _"Ap ártó arthe vel-na mi Catha. acnasvers de Rumax"_

"Sister?" Zech's brow creased in a frown. "He is calling for his sister. _"'Cathe'_ means 'pleasant' and _'Catharnai'_ is a goddess of hunting and capture the Tusci version of Diana I believe. I'd say that was her name. Apparently she was taken by '_Arthe Vel-na'_ I'm not farmiliar with the word in that form but I believe it means 'the breaker' or 'the one who severs' she was made _'Catha'_ a prisoner of war.

"Trowa told me there was a performer in the Circus Maximus called Cathy. She befriended him, told him stories of Troy, taught him to tumble and gave him a flute. Before her all his memories were hazy. Do you think she could have been his sister?"

The green-eyed youth seemed tired now. He laid his head on Zechs shoulder appearing very childlike clinging to the elder man. One hand stretched out toward the broken festival mask. "_Mi ne tanasa, nem suplu, mi histrio phersu et arta."_ He mumbled.

"Bring the mask Heero." Zechs directed and the tussle headed youth obeyed. The half of the clay mask the that was still mostly intact depicted a frowning face with had a star inscribed over the eye. Flecks of blue paint still cling here and there. The other half which looked to have been a smiling face was broken into three smaller pieces and a few smaller shards. "Do you think it was his?" Heero asked as he brished his fingers through the dust to be sure he didn't mis any. "Is this what triggered the return of his memories?"

"It is his, he said as much. The mask, is a _phersu_. It is the type of thing actors wear during performances and festivals.— Those that perform the great tragedies, tumble or play flute hold an important role the Tusci society. They educate as much as entertain leading religious holidays and fest days as much as the priests do. I expect that when the mask was broken he became other than he was. _Phersu_ is the origin of the Latin word 'Persona' and you said yourself that Trowa had lost his. I understand something of that.

My people don a type of mask called a '_beadogrima'_ before going into battle much as the helm you wear in the arena. For my people it is more than just protection, it symbolized the warrior mindset. Though my father willed it, setting mine aside to embrace the spirit of peace was not an easy thing to do. Some would say being a peace crafter is contrary to my nature. But I expect our Trowa is not so separated from his past as he believes. This Cathy, whether she is his sister by blood or not, somehow filled the void caused by the 'breaker'. She is clearly important to him. I expect that as soon as we reach the next town Treize will send word back to the Villa and have Une go to the Circus to collect her; He will want to know she is somewhere safe until we get back."

Zechs long-legged strides seemed to soothe the formerly distraught youth._ "Mi ne Tritun Truit-truna, lauci lupu-ce, ni Nana, threzu, lautn, ne-munam_." He mumbled sleepily.

"I suspect our Trowa was born 'Tritun Truit-truna' would have been an auspicious name among his people. It means 'Triton's mighty lightning-bolt' Tarchon, one on the Etruscan's greatest heroes had an affair with an nymph named Vegoia. She taught him to summon mist and divine fire from the clouds. For generations his children could interpret the language of the storms. Though I expect that knowledge died out long ago after all, there aren't many Tusci left...and the only ones I know of are slaves

In any case our Trowa seems to have rejected his birth name. All the more reason he had Treize alter his papers. He claims to be 'Nana' that is to say 'no-one' a circus slave with no thought or memory._ '_he has said _Lauci lupu-ce',_ twice now. Once when speaking of his parents death and now again in reference to his forgetting. I understand it to mean 'Blooms die' an image of the inevitable… but perhaps it is more; a sir name perhaps? "Zechs reasoned. "Trŭit-truná:Tritun Lāuci" (Mighty lightning-bolt, Triton Bloom,)

"_Mi am-ludio truia, mi aiza eris. Mi amth-ni Macstrev"_ Trowa nuzzled into Zechs's shoulder eyes closing as he gave into the warm comfort and security the other offered.

"I'd say he is coming to terms with who he was and what he is. He used the word _'ludio'_ for slave from it we get the words Ludi and Lanista. But in the Tusci it means both 'actor' and 'gladiator' the same can be said of the word '_Truia'_ which means circus, the place of gladiators and also circle, the place where actors perform. If I were to guess I'd say our Trowa went from one meaning of the word the other. h also says he respects and honors his master--Which is a good sign he doesn't intend to harm us or himself. It may take a while to come around. Remembering like this has got to be a shock. But like you said. He isn't alone."

"He is the one who taught me that when I needed to know." The young slave admitted. "It is only fair I remind him now."

"You are a good friend Heero." Zechs said.

The pronouncement rendered the young gladiator speechless. For once he couldn't even manage his customary 'Hn.'

--------------------------------

Chapter 22 notes

Hands breadth: a unit of linear measure from the width of a hand roughly 2 1/2 to 4 in. (6.4 to 10 cm).

Unlike Greek and Latin, Etruscan, the third great ancient language of culture in Italy, does not survive in any great literary works. An Etruscan religious literature did exist, and evidence suggests that there was a body of historical literature and drama as well. It is recorded that 'Volnius' was popular playwright who wrote Tuscan tragedies. But exactly when he lived or where his plays were performed is lost. It is even suspected, that there was a written system of notation for Etruscan music though none survives. It is interesting to note that Music, especially flute music, acting and acrobatics were highly valued in their culture.

There is a corpus of over 10,000 known Etruscan inscriptions, with new ones being discovered each year. These are mainly short funerary or dedicatory inscriptions, found on funerary urns, in tombs or on objects dedicated in sanctuaries. Others are found on engraved bronze Etruscan mirrors, where they label mythological figures or give the name of the owner, and on coins, dice, and pottery. Finally, there are graffiti scratched on pottery; though their function is little understood, they seem to include owners' names as well as numbers, abbreviations, and non alphabetic signs. I don't pretend to know anything about Etruscan syntax or grammar but I found an incredibly useful glossary of words which I exploited at length to create the 'translations' in this chapter and the next. The Etruscan word for 'sister' is unknown and since Cathy is clearly female I used the word for brother (Ruva) with the feminine ending to create' Ruvi' it seemed a plausible jump since father is 'Apa' and as mother is 'Ati'. I also use 'Ap' as a micelaneous connecter word like 'of' or 'the' since you feel the lack words of this sort when trying to create more than a simple inscription. Etruscan words beginning with this prefix seem to correlate with luck or attainment of something. But for the most part I tried to remain as faithful to the true meaning of words as I could.

It is widely accepted that the Etruscan language had ceased to be spoken in the time of imperial Rome. In my study of history I have noted that things like language are not genuinely given up without a fight. They might not be main-stream but there are pockets that persist in remote or secluded areas. During times of cultural persecution this is especially the case, as Native speakers go underground preserving their heritage in secret (Irish, Welsh, Scottish Gaelic, Native American anyone?) Its not like language comes with an expiration date…Latin has been dead for generations but you can still study it. Etruscan held a similar place in Roman society. Native speakers may have been few and far between but the language was still being studied and used in certain religious rites by priests and scholars until late antiquity; the final record of such use relates to the invasion of Rome by Alaric, chief of the Visigoths, in 410 CE, when Etruscan priests were summoned to conjure lightning against the barbarians. The emperor Claudius (who is at present resting from his injuries in the Villa Kushrenada) wrote a history of the Etruscans in 20 books, now lost, which was based on sources still preserved in his day.

Zechs did a pretty good job of translation but if you want to know what Trowa said without interruption here it is:

Atiu, Apau, Mi am clthl! (Mum, da, I am here)

Sa Themias, atrSce, lunaSie, Heva Ziva (I obeyed, stayed hidden, still & quiet, everyone is dead)

Apa, Ati saniSva. Laru Lauci lupu-ce (mother, father, dead as one who cuts Blooms to die)

Ecn aum aurina, Sa pera mi ara-pera, hupni, hinthial (This wretched town, my house, my relatives houses, a place of spirits, ghosts/reflections of the soul)

Ruvi Cathe, Mimi Catharnai ap Ártó arthe vel-na Mi Catha. Acnasvers de Rumax (Sister Cathy, "plesant" My Cathirine "goddess of grasping, capture, hunting" was taken by the breaker "the one who severs and destroys" made a prisoner of war, given as a possession to the Romans)

Mi ne tanasa, nem suplu, mi histrio Phersu et arta "I'm no actor, no player of the flute, sad and painful my mask is broken.)

Mi ne Tritun Truit-truna', lauci lupu-ce, ni Nana, threzu, lautn, ne-munam, (I am not Triton's mighty lightning-bolt, Blooms die I am no-one, a slave, a possession, without thought or memory)

Mi am- truia ludio Mi aiza eris Mi Amth-ni Macstrev (I am a slave gladiator/ring performer still I respect and honor my master)

---------------------------------


	23. Slipping Away

Chapter 23 Slipping Away

They had been journeying five days muscles had grown accustomed to the routine and Heero bearly even registered the burn in his thighs and lower back and when he woke in the sat by the hearth in the common room of the way station, it was virtually identical to the others they that taken shelter in since crossing the broken backbone of the _Appenninus_ mountains. During that time he had learned he inequitably preferred to camp out-of doors in the wilds. A far different experience to being chained in the small windowless cell constructed in the twisted catacombs beneath the floor of the arena. He genuinely hoped he would never have to go back to that life; master Treize had spoiled him ridiculously. Of course Heero hadn't said anything to the others. His thoughts were his and his alone.

Duo however, made his preference for the cities known to all. Having come from a vastly different background the former street urchin felt terribly exposed with no walls or roof to hide him from predators. The braided boy had also grown accustomed to the ease of living under master Kushrenada's care But, having once been an urchin…Duo still very much thought like one.

In fact, he made a point to seek out the local pack-leader, or whatever the head of a band of street boys was called, in whatever city they happened to find themselves. It reminded Heero of how the wolves they were traveling with tended to disappear to commune with their own kind when the opportunity arose. Still, the first time he had done it had been near catastrophic; slipping off without a word to anyone. Zechs and the wolf pair had to run him down and bring him before Treize.

Their usually amiable master had been transformed into something else altogether in light of what he saw as betrayal. The noble's face had been ashen and his clenched fists shook with emotion as he sought to maintain his control--Which had already been wearing thin in light of the matter with Trowa

-- Trowa.

Heero bit his lip and swallowed hard at the thought of the green eyed arena slave who had been reduced to little more than a doll perched, practically lifeless in front of Treize's saddle as they traveled. Seeing one he had come to view as a firm compatriot and ally so…emotionally naked and vulnerable had unnerved him. If it had been any of the others, Heero suspected he would have been better equipped to handle it. But it had been Trowa who had broken. And that, for some reason he couldn't comprehend or put a name to, rocked him to the core.

Heero thrust the uncomfortable emotion into the farthest reaches of his mind, turned his thoughts once more to his evaluation of recent events. Master Lowe had insisted regular periods of 'situational analysis' and 'self-assessment' helped clarify situations in the mind. It was an ingrained habit that Heero had come to rely upon to maintain the necessary detachment required of a Scissori. Such tactics became especially useful in maintaining his familiar stony façade and doggedly continuing to function, regardless of what went on around him. He idly wondered if he would be as thoroughly undone as Trowa if the wall he placed between himself and others were to rupture unexpectedly.

Quatre didn't shut his heart away -- he wore his emotion plain for all to see. Despite their difficulties the little blonde had not lost his ability to function. Then again, Quatre had been near inconsolable the entire time that Duo was missing without leave. WuFei had grumbled and growled himself into a right fit of temper as well. Both of them knew the full range of punishments a master could demand on a slave guilty of attempted theft of self. The anklet of bells they wore being the lightest. In the most extreme cases a slave could be hamstrung, crippled for life. In every case he had ever heard of the runaway invariably found themselves up for resale with a mark on their permanent record. If Treize were to cut Duo from the ranks Heero knew he would probably miss the braided idiot. They all would. That was why the boy's thoughtless actions had cut so deeply.

"Why." Was the first thing out of their master's mouth when Duo was brought behind the livery stables where the others had waited. Zechs had made the boy kneel at Treize's feet. "Why?! The man asked again and there was such undisguised pain in Treize's voice everyone was taken aback.

"I-I didn't mean to." Duo faltered. "I wasn't trying to leave. I saw the gang-sign by the gate and my sweeper instincts just sort of kicked in. I remember how excited Solo always when an urchin from far off came into our district. He never got tired of hearing about the way kids like us made lives for themselves drifting from place to place instead of holing up behind city walls. When I realize was drifting into someone else's territory just like those sweepers used to come to ours, I intended to come back. I just wasn't thinking." Duo lowered his face again and shook his head sadly." Then it was as if the boy was determined not to make excuses. Amethyst eyes rose to meet sapphire. "I was being selfish. I'm sorry…master." The title sounded strange on Duo's lips. Treize had paid coin for him just as surely as he had the others but the boy had never acted like a slave. He didn't know how too; which made sense when you considered this had been his first real lesson. Heero had more lessons than he cared to think, the others had as well, though their training had been far different than his own.

"I'm sorry too Duo. I know you don't lie. I want to trust you--If you had only trusted me. If you had asked to go to meet them and made arrangements to join back up with us. I would have given you a pass and let you go. As it is you worried us all, and if the local _Aedile_ (constable) had caught you without a pass there would have been no end of trouble. They could require me to punish not just you, but the others as well, publicly." the note of desperation in Treize's plea was a palpable thing. "I accept your apology. But I am a man of my word. I am sure Zechs explained the rules when you were accepted as a member of my household."

The boy could not lie. "He did sir," Duo admitted. His shoulders slumped. "In fact, Zechs made a point to caution me against running away on at least two occasions." He recounted sullenly.

"Will you accept your punishment?" Treize asked.

"I will. Do what you must." With that Duo had pulled off his tunic, bearing his back for the overseer's whip. The urchin was new to slavery. His unmarred skin was a testament to that fact. All gladiators, Zechs included, were more than passing familiar with the pain of the lash. WuFei and even Quatre's milk white hide had been marked. But Duo's was tan and flawless

As whips go, the one Zechs used was a simple one. Long woven strands of supple giraffe hide. No other animal could produce the eight-foot strips that comprised that single tail. Heero was grateful the man didn't use a shorter scourge. The bull whip may end in a serpents tong and could certainly bite the lash was far worse its many tongues coated in tar and tipped with bits of metal, glass bone or teeth meant to rip skin and rend the flesh beneath.

Heero also took satisfaction in the knowledge that Zechs held complete mastery of the weapon he wielded. Heero had dared measure his skill against that of his new lanista in the trial arena of the auction house. That same skill was apparent even now. The few experimental strikes Zechs directed toward the tree, which shaded the back of the stables, removed a single leaf of his choosing from the branch. "The large one with the hole first -- the small one next with the yellow edge --That brown one there on the end…he Identified the target in a quiet voice before sending it fluttering down to the cobbles. If not for the grave expression on his face one would have thought he was showing off--Or perhaps reassuring himself of his ability.

The first set of five lashes were quick, it was better that way. Heero had learned long ago to relax prior to taking a strike. Tension in the muscles increased the damage. Even so the urge to flinch was a difficult one to conquer. Zechs simply didn't give Duo time to brace himself. "Do…not…Forget…to…ask." Each word was punctuated with a strike that left a long red welt on supple flesh and ended with a muted whimper. The next five were the same as the first. "Don't…make me…do this…again." he intoned, the bruised skin broke and blood oozed a bit but Heero knew it would be fully healed in several days and not even leave a scar.

Even so, there was no doubt Duo would remember his punishment long after the physical hurt had faded, as would the other slaves. Not because it was excessively cruel or unjust…in point of fact the most indelible imprints made that day were caused by the streams of wetness tracing their way down a certain stalwart barbarian's cheeks. After Zechs fulfilled his duty as overseer he dropped the whip to the hard-packed ground as if it had burnt his fingers and walked hastily away to collect himself in private.

Duo had cried too, and Treize hadn't so much as scolded either for showing such weakness. Heero still couldn't understand how radically_ that_ differed from his training. Even more he could not comprehend the way his new master tended the boy's hurts with his own hands while Quatre, WuFei and himself stood by and watched. Tending Trowa was one thing. He had done nothing to deserve his fate. But Duo was clearly at fault, he admitted it. Still Treize tended him unstintingly without further recrimination. Heero wondered if the others were having as difficult time understanding what had happened as he was.

After that, the days after had passed uneventfully for the most part. Duo still slipped off from time to time, but never without asked permission first. Sometime after dusk the previous evening they had made it to the way station at Verona. Treize beat Duo to the punch issuing him an ivory pass bearing the Kushrenada seal and his slave identification number. A clear indicated Duo was about his master's business; who was to know Duo's 'business' was in fact a "reconnaissance mission' to question the local riff-raff about the town.

Duo had come back with a detailed report about the area, the best place to stay, places best avoided, local gossip; the most useful being that today happened to be a market day where local farmers and craftsmen would descend en masse to sell their wares in the city. The local merchants would be forced to lower their prices to compete with the influx and there would be many opportunities to replenish their now dwindling supplies. Heero was never sure where he stood around the ebullient former street-boy but to His mind the braided youth had proved his worth on more than one occasion already.

WuFei had yet to completely make his mind up in that regard, but the two slaves had opted to put aside their usual bickering and were bent over a low wooden table working at reconstructing the clay festival mask he had brought from the ruins. The intact half had already been repainted in jewel-like tones and sat drying on the table as they worked at reassembling the remaining shards.

It seemed pointless to Heero, no matter how carefully they mended it the fractured mask would always bear the scars of being broken. He couldn't see it used for anything but display. Still they apparently saw some value in the task, and had been at it for quite a while. Only now were the pottery pieces beginning to resemble what they once had been. Zechs and Quatre lounged at another table making plans for the excursion into the markets to procure additional supplies. Master Treize had opted to stay behind…with Trowa.

This time Heero couldn't escape the impressions that came unbidden to his mind. He swallowed uncomfortably and flicked a few pieces of charcoal off the hearthstone with his fingernail. He was careful to keep his eyes lowered so none could chance to see the turmoil roiling beneath his cobalt gaze. To say Heero was confused would be an understatement.

For the better part of a-day-and-a-half Heero had been physically unable to look at his fellow arena slave; seeing the youth reduced to a trembling wreck, delirious with fever and upset, made his pulse pound and his stomach knot within him. Heero hadn't been able to eat more than a few small bites of wheat porridge and a swallow of well-watered wine--and that he had only managed to satisfy the annoyingly observant Quatre. Before that He had been surreptitiously feeding most of his meals to Duo, who either didn't notice or didn't mind. He at this point wasn't sure which.

The gladiator thought It might be good to get away for a little while. Of course he hated the markets. Having been kept largely in seclusion, the constant press of people milling about in the wide open expanse of the forum, invading his space and brushing up against him, was repugnant. The braying of animals and the constant din of having too many people in one place, the merchants shouting over one another, Various and sundry sights and smells pleasant and not so mingling accosting his senses. The experience made him want to jump out of his skin…or rake his nails across someone else's. But at least, out there, his mind would be so occupied with watching for threats and keeping track of the others that he might be able to forget...his friend's pain.

Heero grimaced. He didn't know if the green eyed beast lord was his friend or not, much less, that he was 'a good friend' as Zechs claimed. "Relationships breed weakness" the _doctores_ had said punctuating the statement with the thin wooden rod across his shoulders, when they caught him looking at another fighter with anything other than the cold calculation necessary to assess a potential opponent.. But his new lanista seemed to think his friendship with Trowa was a foregone conclusion and even master Treize hadn't thought to chastise him for it, though he must have known. He and Zechs do talk after all.

"All right Heero, Duo you are with me." Quatre announced "WuFei, you will go with Zechs. We'll cover more ground that way."

"Um kit-kat." Duo raised his hand and waved to interject. "I know how to find honest runners to bring our stuff to the stables so's we don hafta lug it round. They'll even guard it so's it won't walk away when our collective backs are turned." It was true the former street boy had a way with his own kind, but Quatre was not sure whether to trust Duo's 'connections' or not. Regardless the young blonde's decision ultimately came down to, "How much will it cost?" Since Duo's 'lesson' Quatre had taken it upon himself to teach the urchin everything he needed to know. That was all well and good if it meant the boy wouldn't need to be punished again but the frowning blond could get a bit overbearing at times. "A good slave is a good steward of his master's money." Quatre quoted chidingly, "I won't have you wasting any of Master Treize's needlessly."

"Just whatever you can spare; a few coppers perhaps. I wouldn't ask you to hand out danarii left and right…not unless you want to be particularity generous. Treize _is_ known for his generosity and they've got the whole gang to feed. It goes to reason any little bit they didn't have to steal would be appreciated. And the little ones need to learn that honest work _does_ pay. Pleeeeease." Violet eyes implored.

Hungry little ones, Quatre bit his lower lip and felt his resolve beginning to crumble. So he decided to yield to a higher authority. "Zechs?" he entreated.

"I don't see the harm." The barbarian prince conceded.

"Oh goody!" Duo did a little dance of excitement. "They are very good boys you'll see...though I think one of um might be a girl, you can't really tell beneath the dirt."

WuFei made a snort of disgust. "You aren't just saddling us with urchins…they have to be grubby urchins as well?"

"You won't even know they are there Fei-fei, besides, there aint much they can do about the state they're in. Bathhouses aren't free and don't let kids in even if they did have the coin. What do you want they should do? The guards run them off from the public fountains, It hasn't rained in a while and the stuff that collects in the gutters doesn't bear thinking about. I sure as Hades wouldn't smear it on my skin, it might keep the bugs away but It's a sure-fire way to get a rash or worse." Duo explained forthrightly.

Didn't bear thinking about…insects? Thanks to Duo's words, WuFei DID think about it, "Disgusting." Normally honey toned skin blanched and he made a strangled gagging noise at the image his vivid imagination provided.

"Let's get some fresh air shall we." Zechs put a hand on WuFei's shoulder and guided his charge toward the door. "You three coming?"

Heero sighed, pushing himself off the ledge, brushing the cinders off the hem of his tunic and trailed listlessly after the others.

The market was every bit as bad as he feared. His palms itched to pull his swords. 'Stop crowding me!' he wanted to scream, to somehow make these people give him enough room to breathe, to think…no he didn't want to think either. "Stay close." Heero growled, snatching at the trailing end of the passing braid before the human tide could sweep it away. He wound the silky chestnut plat securely around his fist.

Duo whined, but didn't complain overmuch, distracted as he was by the rather rotund gentleman shouldering his way past. It looked to Heero as if he wasn't the only one suffering from itchy palms, though Duo's seemed to be very interested in the bulging belt pouch only a scant arms length away.. "Duo," Quatre frowned and shook his head. The former urchin folded his hands behind his back and attempted to look innocent. It didn't work. Their 'native guide' giggled hiding her soot smudged face behind equally dirty hands.

Moments later his braided companion's attention was riveted to brightly colored ribbons that hung from the awning of a near by stall, violet eyes tracked them as they danced in the fitful breeze. Duo looked as if he dearly wanted to snatch one…or more than one, 'Smack!' Quatre's hand made contact with the boy's wrist. "We mustn't do anything that would reflect badly on Master Treize." Quatre explained testily. Duo's shoulders slumped defeated.

---------------------------

Chapter 23 Notes:

Zechs Bullwhip: The origins of the bullwhip are a matter for debate and, given the perishable nature of leather, are likely to remain so. Difficulties in tracing its development also arise from regional and national variations in nomenclature. There are claims that it was developed in South America where these were also used, as well as 'Cow-Whips' during the Slave Trade as weapons, generally in North Carolina, or arrived there from Spain, but Roman mosaics and earthenware dating to around the second and third century A.D. show what appear to be tapered drop-lash whips, rather than the two-piece whips often associated with the Romans and other ancient cultures. Given that the same basic design appears in several primary sources, it seems likely that this is not a stylistic coincidence but a depiction of a design of whip in current use at the time the articles were made. The roman scourge by comparison was a terrible implement of torture, usually used on those condemned to die. Again I'm conscious of the rating and not going into details. As it is I may have been pushing it with the account.

In determining how many lashes I looked into how slaves were punished on large plantations in the 1800's. As in earlier times the number of lashes depended on the seriousness of the offence. And the master was mindful of keeping his slaves in good enough condition to work afterwards. Austin Steward wrote that on his plantation 39 lashes was the number for most offences. I expect even in his day Treize was being quite lenient limiting the number to 10. One account I found of a man named Francis Fredric who ran away and was free for nine weeks. After he was captured he was given 107 lashes. Another plantation slave, Moses Roper, received 200 lashes and this was only brought to an end when the master's wife pleaded for his life to be spared._  
_

_Shopping _in ancient Rome were pretty much what one would expect nowadays: The markets were called Forums and these here Rows of shops could be found along main streets offering their wares vendors cluttered the streets even further with tables and awnings showing off their brightly colored displays. Areas were dedicated to common goods as meat, vegetables and oil or specific products like sandals, tanned hides, clothing or specialized items like weapons or jewelry. There were even street vendors selling food and drink and the plebeians and slaves could access these to eat something not too dissimilar from modern pizzas or sandwiches.

On the site of the ancient Roman forum of Verona is the _Piazza delle Erbe_, a pleasant corner of old Genoa, It has been used by fruit and vegetable sellers since ancient times and is still a lively marketplace today. At the center is a fountain where the local residents used to draw water, The Roman statue that stands over the fountain is one of the symbols of the city. The shop buildings around the forum were planned with greater care were often adorned with mosaics depicting the types of merchandise they sold and were designed to have back entrances for the goods and even living quarters for the people who worked there or owned the shop. Often the shops would be tended by slaves who would refer to their manager, the shop owner, in situations they themselves were not in power to handle. The government kept a keen eye on trading and markets. Shops had signs and would also have to display their license to trade in the particular goods they sold. This license was sculpted in marble and displayed publicly. The Aedile was the officer in charge of maintaining order and making sure everything was above board in the market district. Before coming to power Julius Caesar served as an Aedile.

_The Roman currency system_ included the 'denarius' (plural: denarii) after 211 BC, a small silver coin, and it was the most common coin produced for circulation but was slowly debased until its replacement by the antoninianus. Even after the denarius was no longer regularly issued, it continued to be used as an accounting device and the name was applied to later Roman coins in a way that is not understood. The Arabs who conquered large parts of the Roman Empire issued their own Gold Dinar, from which the name Dinar of various present-day Arab currencies is derived. The lasting legacy of the denarius can be seen in the use of "d" as the abbreviation for the British penny prior to 1971[5]. It survived in France as the name of a coin, the denier. The denarius also survives in the common Arabic name for a currency unit, the dinar used from pre-Islamic times, and still used in several modern Arabic-speaking nations.

1 gold aureus = 2 gold quinarii = 25 silver denarii = 50 silver quinarii =100 bronze sestertii = 200 bronze dupondii = 400 copper as = 800 copper semisses = 1600 copper quadrans


	24. The Breaks

Note: this is an especially long chapter for those of you in the U.S. Happy Independence day. For those of you in British affiliated areas, be grateful you need not concern yourselves overmuch with a certain rebellious child nation. Personally this July 4th I am celebrating Turtle Liberation day, as my dear red-eared slider has outgrown the confines of his tank and after a week of remedial goldfish fishing lessons in our spare bathtub he is going to live in the lake belonging to a family friend. It will be a bittersweet parting but it is time. I wish him well.

Chapter 24 The Breaks

Back at the way-station Green-eyes fluttered open greeting the world with reluctance. He ached. To say that was to put it mildly. In the Circus Maximus Trowa had seen prisoners drawn and quartered, four feisty stallions, one tied to each limb before their riders bolted to the four winds ripping the body apart. He imagined that if one were to somehow survive the ordeal they might feel a bit like he did at the moment. Still, He didn't appear broken, his muscles and limbs seemed intact and working. His next thought was that Perhaps the arena_ doctores_ had been testing their techniques on him again That would explain the sensation of pain and…emptiness? No sooner than he identified the last sensation it vanished, and he was inundated with a cascade of uncalled for memories filling the aching void and leaving him shaking and weak.

When he came back to himself he was aware of a hand clutching his own and another hand rubbing circles on the small of his back. "Shh Paci, Tritun Truna, Mi am clthl." The silky tenor soothed.

It took a few heartbeats for the boy to realize those soothing words were in fact directed at him. "Peace/calm" and "I'm here," made sense and the nickname was familiar, Cathy had given it to him but Master Barton chanced to overhear and had him beaten for it. He idly wondered if the same would happen again. He shook his head ready to deny the words he was no sea god, no 'Trut-truna' (mighty-lightning bolt) only 'Trua Nana-ni' (a slave, a nothing no-one), and never more.

Turning his head to face the figure sitting on the edge of his bed made his vision cloud a bit but he was certain this WAS a proper bed with a stout frame and a thick mattress of goose down, not a thin straw mat on cold stone—then his gaze met startling blue eyes and a noble face framed in ginger. "Macstre!" (master) He gasped in recognition. Something was wrong that he would be _here_.

He tried to sit up and scoot out from beneath the soft blankets that swaddled him but the nobleman laid a hand on his arm to still him. "Cetse," (Stop/rest) then calmly offered, "Ti alp papniu puruthn?" (Do you want some grain porrage?)

"Ne," Trowa replied shaking his head in the negative though he wasn't entirely sure whether he was rejecting the offer of food or the idea that he should calm down and rest. "Mi ei eicrece." (I'm not sick) he insisted knowing it was often more convenient for a master to sell a sick slave than to tend them.

His all too perceptive master countered. "Tu hermu ap nethsrac'a." (You are afflicted with sadness and heartbreak) then placed a few pillows behind the boy's back to help him sit up a bit tucking the blanket around him once more.

"Mi ei neqaxu nene" (I don't need a babysitter/wetnurse) Trowa sulked from beneath the curtain of his bangs.

"Nene..mini?" (nursemaid…Me?) the man's thin lips quirked in a smile eyed him speculatively, one forked eyebrow rose at the assessment. "Ti alp mi capa'sa?" (Do you want me to go?)

The young slave felt compelled to explain himself better. His usually quiet voice was heavy with emotion as he insisted, "Ne Macstre, trin ta tre-teraS piana eurtha eStla marish-eri." (No master, I pray, you do too much--sacrificing your dignity for the sake of a slave)

"Tenixunce, hecz-ri mi huzmatre," (I offered, I take care of my young warriors) the noble shrugged. "Vesi a ceisu, mavilitule vinm neri." (Try a few bites of meat, some watered wine.) Treize placed a small tray before him containing a cup and a selection of cold meats, cheese, fruit slices and bread. The bowl of sticky porridge he left on the nightstand.

Trowa's stomach made its own feelings on the matter heard and he had no choice to answer to the persistent demand. It felt like he hadn't eaten in a week. Which begged the question just how long had he been…otherwise occupied. "Clal ena?" (what is today?) He asked mildly nibbling on the meat and cheese

Treize frowned a bit counting off on his fingers before coming up with, "Sar, acalve, Tu citz thesan hintha ilucu huth tezan." (The tenth of June, You wake mid-morning after five days travel.)

"Huth tezan? Mi mnev thue ci." Trowa echoed, (five days? I remember only three) Then he asked "Cal scuna spura)?" (Where is this place/city?)

Treize pursed his lips, "Verona." He said, it was the first thing not in the language of the Raśnele perhaps the man didn't know the place name in Rasa. This lapse was what actually brought the fact home to him that the man shouldn't be able to converse so freely in that language In fact Trowa wasn't entirely sure why he was able to do so himself. He tried to adjust his thinking to process Latin and his mind promptly seized up. Trowa pulled his knees up to his chest and shivered. The she-wolf that had been dozing at the foot of the bed whined piteously, lifting her head to lick the boys hand in encouragement.

"Zusa zanulis**.**" (Try to hold on) Treize whispered and began rubbing his back again. Before too long Trowa was able to pull himself out of the dark place and was once again surprised to find his master still sitting beside him--comforting him.

He moved his hand and idly scratched the wolf's ears finally he asked, "Tu ara Rumate ixnac satir Raśna? Nac?" (You are Roman how is it you speak Etruscan? Why?)

"Huini Une en streta mini. Ap api phurthce campane. Leda sa ati snenath." (Lady Une instructed me, my father brought her back from campaign, she was my mother's maidservant.)

"A naria?" (A female slave) Trowa asked

"Lautnitha" (a freedwoman/family servant) Treize corrected, "An min nene. Enac min ati lupuce Sa amu clanti, (She was my nanny. After my mother died I became her adopted son.)

"Huini ap tu api lasa?" (Lady was your father's bride?)

"Na-puia an arce sa." (Not his wife, she raised me) Treize was beginning to look a bit uncomfortable with this line of questioning. "Cvethn tu hexth." (Get some rest, you'll feel better)

"Alpan (willingly) the boy agreed then managed a slight teasing smile "Xarsteiun Macstre Turze." (Thank you generous master)

"Paci," (Peace/sleep) as bone deep fatigue closed his eyes he heard the soft whisper of Latin, "Rest my mighty Trowa, rest and be well."

--------------------------

Treize leaned back next to the sleeping youth. This had been the longest and most coherent period of consciousness Trowa had since his shock in the ruins. He had been awake before now of course but far from lucid. His movements had been doll-like, green-eyes dull and unfocused and his mind lost in another place and time. Zechs had counseled him to send the stricken youth back to the villa with one of the others to care for him but the noble wouldn't hear of it.

"These boys are mine…the responsibility is mine. I won't have him face this alone." He had said, and it was clear no amount of reason would sway him from that decision. It had been difficult to see his young beast master brought low in such a way but Treize did not regret his decision. The other slaves had been quite surprised he would not simple discard the boy, leave him at the nearest slave-market like some broken commodity. Instead he girded his dear Epyon with one of the pack saddles, so he could comfortable carry the stricken youth on the chestnut roan before him.

From the boy's fragmented ramblings and his own knowledge of the Tusci language Treize had a pretty clear picture of the memories Trowa had been struggling to come to grips with. Once the Tusci had been a powerful people; before the destruction of Troy they had been what Rome was now. Their Kingdom was not as far reaching or as well organized as the Empire, of course, but they had been the rulers in what was now the roman heartland. As the chariot wheels of time are driven along the road of progress some cultures are cast by the wayside…others are crushed by those succeed them. It happens. There are casualties. Lady Une had made sure he had a healthy understanding of what was sacrificed to craft the secure foundation on which the empire now stood.

The Etruscans had been scattered and absorbed by their roman rulers…though there had been pockets of resistance from time to time, Fragments of a bygone era with a mind to resurrect that which had been. Trowa had been birthed in such environs. If his people had been tucked away in some forgotten wilderness they might have been left alone, forgotten for another generation or so. But roman roads conquer the wilderness as our civilization overwhelms the world. Mercenaries descended upon them en-masse determined to break the backs of the stiff-necked people.

They refused to bow and so the sword swept them aside. Those young enough or impressionable enough to be useful were taken as slaves. Trowa and his sister had been taken into their ranks, for re-education and indoctrination into the slave way of life. The boy was sold to the arena when they were done with him. After more training he came into Barton's hands where Cathy must have found him in the Circus Maximus and tried to make him remember who he had been. Her stories and songs planted seeds and returning again to the place of destruction caused those seeds to germinate and run rampant in his mind

It was not a terribly complicated story, but the scars it had left on the young soul were visibly apparent. "My dear boy," Treize whispered rubbing Trowa's back in the way that seemed to calm him. "I can't do anything about what was done. But you have a place with us; a place of safety and security where, despite your slave status you are free to be whom you wish."

-------------------------------------

There was a small knock on the door and Zechs entered the others trailing in his wake careful not to disturb the sleeping youth.

"How is he?" the question was inevitable, it didn't really matter who voiced it, it was clearly on everyone's mind.

"Much better, Treize was happy to recount. "He was awake just a bit ago. More alert…we had a chance to talk. He told me he doesn't need a nurse maid." Treize lips twisted in a smile. He had wanted to see their reaction to that but of news and hadn't been disappointed; Surprise relief, Hope flicked across the faces arrayed before him all in a fraction of a heartbeat. "It seems he is back with us; Latin still unnerves him though." He admitted. Turning to Zechs he admitted, "He's dubbed me, 'Macstre Turza'. Do you think I should have him call you 'Macstrna Zax'?"

The barbarian prince scoffed. "I suppose you'll have to, unless he gets his Latin back in relative short order." Seeing looks of confusion on the other slaves' faces he explained, "Une wasn't at all appreciative of my inclusion into Treize's household. During my first months at the villa she spoke nothing but Tusci out of sheer spite knowing I couldn't understand she was free to make her feelings about me quite clear. I think she was trying to make me feel more an outsider than I already did. But I showed her. Listening and watching her interact with Treize till I could puzzle out what she was saying."

Treize chuckled "Simply understanding wasn't enough was it M'lord, one afternoon he just blurts out 'Stop tormenting me you snub-nosed old woman;' in near perfect Tusci,

"Lecin lecusta mini, Ti Sîmos leinth." Zechs re-enacted the scene with a bit of flair wagging his finger at an imagined Une.

"She was shocked to say the least and I nearly hurt myself laughing so hard," Treize grinned.

"I think I earned her respect then. Somewhat -- The harridan still jabbed me with that roasting fork for stealing pastries from the kitchen." Zechs groused before continuing with the tale "Anyway, Treize entrusted me with an Etruscan title. As Une is lady or, _Hununi_—"

Duo's explosive laughter momentarily distracted his line of thought as the boy practically crowed, slapping his thigh, "Whoo-Noonie-Ooon! That is soooo rich!"

It felt good to hear the braided boy laugh. Given Trowa's condition no one had felt especially jovial. And what little levity they could manage had been strained. Zechs had confided to Treize that he feared his that the use of the lash would forever end the camaraderie the six of them had shared over pine needless in the slave quarters. But even as he nursed his hurts Duo had been incredibly forgiving.

Treize half suspected the boy's magnanimous gesture may have been inspired in part by his wish to see Heero learned that duty and friendship could coexist even when they seem to be at odds. Providing of course those involved were willing to work toward those ends. Most weren't. But that didn't matter. Duo and Zechs were willing and grateful for the opportunity to make amends.

With a satisfied smile Zechs continued despite the interruption. "My Tusci title is _Macstrna._ Itmeans the same as 'Aide-de-camp' and '_Zax_' means vigilant. _Macstre _means 'master' which is how lady always named him and _Turze_ sounds like Treize but means 'generous'--Which of course he is." The large blonde clarified casually folding his hands behind his back -- Or at least the action was _meant_ to _seem_ casual.

Treize knew his second entirely too well. There was something in that boldfaced compliment at the end that caught Treize's attention. And on closer inspection he noted the peculiar _look_ in Zechs eyes and unless Treize missed his guess that _usually_ meant something of mischief had occurred while he had been 'less than vigilant.' "Did you have any trouble finding the supplies for the next leg of the journey?" the noble asked suspiciously.

"Not at all, the supplies have been procured and are all ready in the stables, under urchin-guard. We just need to load the horses. As for trouble, no, no trouble really, I split the boys up to cover more ground. Go ahead boys turn out your pouches and give your master the change."

One by one the slaves did so till there was a sizable pile of coin on the edge of the bed.

"There seems to be quite a lot here." Treize observed, hoping Duo hadn't been 'using his skills' as a thief to augment their supplies. After that last time, He hoped the boy would have learned not test his limits. Treize never wanted to punish any of his boys again and knew Zechs felt the same. But he half-suspected his braided rapscallion would slip into old habits if they didn't keep a close eye on him.

The braided youth seemed to sense his skepticism. "We bought the stuff for cheap. Saving a couple of _denarii_ is a good thing right? Didja know Q-bean can bargain like a camel drover? He talked the marketers down about half, good quality stuff too.

"He paid for _vin ordinaire (common wine)_ and the merchant gave him a very fine _Rosa Vindum_ (rose wine) instead. The last time I bought you rose wine it cost me twenty _sextarius _and Quatre paid only eight!".Zechs shook his head. "I don't know how he did it."

"It was beautiful I tell you." Duo sniffed and pretended to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye. "Q-babe with my talent and your, oh so sunny, smile and bright-blue eyes we could go real far."

Quatre cheeks pinked. "I was Lady Dorothy's cup bearer. I _do_ know wines…and vintage marks. That merchant was trying to cheat his customers selling second quality for the good stuff. I merely beat him at his own game. Finding the wineskins he had re-filled with the prime vintages and paid the prices that were still marked on them." he admitted. "It wasn't anything really."

"Now Q-bean Ro told you before not to make light of your achievements. Bask in the glow of adoration like a good boy." Duo tried to pat him on the head but the petite blonde slipped away quickly going to kneel by the bed to study Trowa's sleeping face, for once unconcealed by the characteristic fall of auburn hair.

Treize's forked eyebrow rose a bit further as he examined the pile of coins closer; noting silver and a few gold coins, twinkling among the copper and bronze. "This is more than I gave you."

"It seems the Champion of Venice was taking his ease by the well. And the man fell to bosting. They put out a call for any who wished to test their mettle against him in an impromptu match. And Heero was unable to let the challenge…or the challenger stand." WuFei quietly admitted.

"You fought?" Treize asked mildly disturbed by the notion the boy could have been hurt.

"I won." Heero shrugged off-handedly as if there really hadn't been any other option. Treize wondered if there was more behind the words but it was difficult to read the boy's inflectionless voice and his cold eyes likewise gave nothing away.

Duo was a different matter. The braided boy was incapable of staying still for more than a moment and he was eager to expound on everything. "No one thought our he-man could trounce that big bruiser." He explained, "but trounce he did! You should a seen it. Between Ro's uncanny strength and reflex and the tricks he's learned from watching Wuffie and T-bear it was a great show!"

"You failed to mention that our champion possesses incredible resilience and tenacity as well." WuFei interjected unable to disguise his respect for the gladiator's performance. Then he seemed to catch himself, as if words of praise, no matter how deserved, had no place falling from his lips. "Keep your voice down Maxwell, you don't want to disturb Trowa…and my name is WuFei, as well you know."

"Ya, ya I hear you Fei Fei." Duo's voice was a fraction quieter in deference to their resting comrade. But he was clearly unrepentant. "Anyway, Q and me got GREAT odds."

"You _wagered_ on the outcome…put _money_ on your comrades _life_?" Treize's frown deepened and he could not help but view the pile of bloods-money with some scorn. He wanted heero and Trowa as guards and didn't like to think of them risking themselves for something as tawdry as money. Zechs would doubtless berate him for that kind of thinking; insisting that Treize only felt that way because he was a spoiled little rich boy at heart. It was true Treize always had more money than he knew what to do with. When ever the topic of arena proceeds came up Zechs was quick to defend the practice insisting that he wasn't undervaluing live…Treize was undervaluing coin which was eminently more valuable to those who didn't have any. Treize doubted the validity of that argument but suspected it had its roots in the Germanic system of 'wergild' (blood-price) as much as the blonde's notable warrior pride.

"Trowa seems to be feeling much better -- more at peace than before." The little blonde was clearly trying to distract him from delving into the matter at present.

"Do you think he will be able to be moved before noon?" WuFei asked, his obsidian eyes silently begging Treize to tread softly, "I was asking around and I think we will be able to make Tridentum soon after dark if we get an early start."

Very well the noble silently conceded. He could wait and chastise them for their foolishness another time. "Well, if you are ready." He concurred

"Streta." (ready) The quiet voice seemed to echo in the sudden silence that fell on the room. Trowa had woke, that single word had been in Tusci but those that followed were blessedly in Latin--formal Latin, but Latin none-the-less, "Volens et potens" he said. (willing and able)

Then there was pandemonium, "You ARE better!" Quatre practically squealed with delight descending on the other boy like a hawk in the dive. It seemed he needed physical contact to reassure himself of the fact; which might have been the case. The young blonde had confided that physical connection enhanced his empathy. Duo needed no such reassurance, and was dancing about the room like a spring breeze, chanting something that sounded suspiciously like "Yess, yess, yess, yay, yess!

"Easy, easy…be careful!" Zechs was cautioned ineffectively. "Calm down the lot of you!" he roared practically making the window-glazing rattle. Heero and WuFei were of course nowhere near as effervescent with their reactions as the others, but Treize could see they were pleased to say the least. Once again Treize was grateful he hadn't split them up, sending Trowa back to the villa to recover under Une's care. They needed this, and so did he.

Of course that didn't mean Treize was going to forget all about Heero needlessly putting himself at risk. As master, it was his duty to discourage that kind of behavior. He would need to have words with the others as well, for encouraging him to do so. Treize may have bought the boys at market price, but their lives meant far more to him than mere coin. Zechs of all people should know how he felt about such things and put a stop to it.

------------------------

Chapter 24 notes

As I said before I went to a lot of trouble to make the Etruscan as real as possible. I find it wildly ironic that if the limited Etruscan words we know the words for both 'Triton Bloom' and 'no-name =nanai"

Trut-truna' sounds similar enough to Trowa to have been a sensible nickname and its meaning "mighty-lightning bolt" and in my mind makes it a period equivalent to 'heavy arms' Trua does mean slave and Nana-ni does mean 'no one or nothing' the same as 'Nanashi.' Une means 'gift', or 'spring' and Hununi means 'lady'. Aren't coincidences amusing ;)

_On Horses and saddles:_ The roman military saddle had four horns and a seat stuffed with straw. It allowed a more stable position in the saddle, and permitted a cavalry officer to ride with hands free to wield sword and shield. Although rope loops were used to make mounting easier stirrups as we know them were not used till much later. I mentioned the four horned design while describing the horses in the courtyard of the villa. However if you think about it this type would have made riding double near unbearable. Rather than abandon the saddle and ride bear-back (something neither horse or rider would find comfortable over prolonged exposure) I suspect the safest and most effective way of conveying a near unconscious Trowa was using one of the simpler saddles from the pack animals, and tying him in place across it then and having Treize or one of the other experienced riders mount behind to keep him as steady as possible.

The pack saddle I envision is a bit like the 12 century 'Sambue' from which the modern side saddle evolved. It had a wooden triangle with a high pommel at the front and a fur seat without Cantle behind. It did not have stirrups but used a wire footrest instead. I realize this it is clearly out of period but what ever the roman's used for this purpose would have been serviceable because it would have to be to be sturdy enough to evenly distribute the weight across the horse's spine, long enough to accommodate irregularly shaped loads, thick enough to prevent chaffing and have lots of loops to tie things to. Even so, Traveling for days in this fashion explains why Trowa experienced such pain upon waking even though he wasn't injured physically. When the journey continues Trowa is still riding double but it is just a precaution He isn't dead weight anymore and can ride in the second position balancing on his own making the ride less stressful for all involved. (Sincere thanks go to innervoice_chan who posted a question about riding double with an injured companion in her live journal and to all those knowledgeable people who chimed in to provide answers to a writers conundrum)

In ancient Rome, all gambling, except betting on gladiators and races, were forbidden by law. Champion gladiators were often put on display by the fountain in the forums by their trainers. It is said that these fighters were always surrounded by admiring crowds. One contemporary writer describes 'their broad ox-like shoulders being stroked patronizingly by the soft, lily-white hands of the patricians, who gathered about the fountain near the coliseums, offering wagers on the next combat.

A champion Gladiator could understandably become quite a heart-throb and be known as "decus puellarum" or "suspirium puellarum" (the sigh of the girls). It would be quite common for these victorious Gladiator-playboys to freshen up at the nearby fountain called the Meta Sudans where they could meet and exchange words. The satirist Juvenal goes as far as suggesting that hitherto respectable women literally turned into the crazed fans of the ugliest gladiator and his "sword" in favor of their husbands and children. You could even buy clay figurines of them in the marketplace. I wouldn't be at all surprised to learn Mariemia collected a whole army of them, she may even have a few we would recognise to be her generals.

The impressive Roman Arena in Verona was built in the first century AD and would likely have been under construction at this time. It is one of the most important and best conserved Roman amphitheaters. It is called "the Arena" from the Latin name for the sand that covers the stage where the shows took place. The stage is elliptical in shape with beams measuring 74 x 44 meters internally and 152 x 123 meters externally. The seating area, called "cavea," is made up of 44 levels and can still hold 22,000 spectators. Since 1913 it has hosted the celebrated lyric opera season of Verona in the summer months.

Old English "wergild" :literally wer = man + geld = payment. In Anglo-Saxon and Germanic law, this was the fixed amount, or blood-price, payable by a killer and his kin to his victim's kinsmen and lord. A man's kin was obliged to seek vengeance for his untimely death, but payment of wergeld was an alternative to blood-feud, and a means of keeping order in a violent society. The amount of wergeld was also an important mark of social status.

A regular freeman (ceorl) was worth 200 shillings in 9th century Mercian law (twyhyndeman), a nobleman was worth 1200 (twelfhyndeman). The law code even mentions the weregeld for a king, at 30000, composed of 15000 for the man, paid to the royal family, and 15000 for the kingship, paid to the people. As a prince of the blood and a gladiator Zechs knew his value down to the nearest clipped coin. And Treize values life above all. As you can guess this was a point of contention between the two. According to this system Thralls and slaves technically commanded no weregild, but it was commonplace to make a nominal payment in the case of a thrall and the value of the slave in such a case. A shilling was defined as the value of a cow in Kent or elsewhere, a sheep. A classic example of a dispute over the weregild of a slave is contained in Iceland's Egil's Saga.


	25. Reflections

Chapter 25 Reflections

As sure as Duo Maxwell always tells the truth, he was awed by Heero's fighting ability…it also terrified him; the violet-eyed youth was afraid _for_ his fellow slave…and also _of _him. The last time he had seen that dark fire simmering in Heero's cobalt blues the other boy had nearly strangled him with his own braid. Duo had seen death and knew the deadly specter trailing the gladiator like a tattered cloak. The only reason the champion of Verona was still in the land of the living was the fact that Heero happened to looked up before snapping the man's neck. Zechs had been directly in the path of that wild-eyed glare and seeing his _lanista's_ impassive face and the purposeful gesture of closing his thumb in his fist compelled the battle hungry _Sissori_ to spare his defeated opponent.

But the shadow remained. Treize didn't seem to notice it as Heero had stepped forward to empty his share of coins on the corner of the bed. But it was there none-the-less. Reflected in the tightness of his back and the set of his shoulders, his general posture practically screamed "Hands-off!" Duo knew it wasn't just the fight that brought on the change. In hindsight it was clear Heero had been pulling away from them since Trowa's…accident. It took little effort to for him to plunge head first into the realm of what he knew seeking safety.

That was something else Duo understood intimately. After leaving the mountains behind and descending into the bustling civilization at _Arminium_ he had tried to run off. Duo swore had not _intended _to abandon Treize and the others, that hadn't been a lie. But had been willing to put himself in a position where local horde could try to convince him to stay. And they would have done their level best to do just that, just as Solo would have. A sweeper, someone with knowledge of other places and ways of doing things, was a benefit to the gang. They were held in a place of honor and respect. Treize treated them with respect, Duo's rebellious mind interjected. And he couldn't deny it. Self-delusion was after all just another lie and, pricked his continence just as sharply. Granted respect from one of the elite felt strange, almost alien. It made Duo uncomfortable. Seeming to compel him to be better than he was, in order to keep, or perhaps justify, that regard. And that idea frightened him. He had wanted to be back among his own kind and, at that time, in that place…the urge had been overwhelming. So he had taken the opportunity to slip of his horse and vanish into the busy crowd.

Duo had half-suspected the others wouldn't notice he was missing. They were all so preoccupied with Trowa. And why not, he was clearly as shattered as the mask Heero carried so gingerly from the ruins. But Zechs had been on him within minutes. And the wolves…it was hard to reconcile those golden eyed terrors with the slathering creatures he slipped morsels of food to when he thought no one was looking. They growled and showed their fangs…but when they took him down it was their weight that pinned him. He had been well aware his actions brought him to bear on the knife's edge. One command from Zechs and the pair would be squirming and licking his face in playful jubilance…a different command and they would rip his throat out.

Heero was like that too…though Heero's version of 'playful exuberance' was easily confused with 'grudging contentment'… but the 'deadly'…that was apt enough. Having Trowa more or less back to his right mind seemed to make the 'beast' he had seen loosed in battle soften a bit. It wasn't gone not by a long shot… he suspected Treize was the only one who didn't see it there lurking in Heero's eyes…perhaps because he chose not too. Duo wondered if ignoring what was, in favor of what might be, was one of the many prerogatives of the rich and influential. Surely the oversight would prove fatal to a lesser man.

Duo knew he, himself was not the most well balanced of individuals…he wouldn't have been abandoned on the streets by whomever chanced to give him life if not for some defect…and no one survived that life entirely unscathed. But he never suspected himself to be crazy enough to actually feel better after a sound whipping. It was something he had thought about long after the sting of the lash had faded. WuFei termed it 'sulking' and told him to stop. But as they mounted up and left Verona behind Duo finally realized what he had been doing…Testing Treize. Testing his limits, Making sure the man SAW him as he was -- a dirty…rebellious…street boy. Was he really trying to force his master to 'act' like a master? Was that what Heero was trying to do with Zechs when he took up the champion's challenge?

-Whack- WuFei's hand contacted with the back of Duo's head. "Stop sulking!" the eastern youth reiterated, since the braided boy obviously hadn't heard him the first time he had said it "Trowa is feeling better. His muscles are sore from being manhandled like an overstuffed sack of rice…but he is himself again."

"Am I?" The green eyed slave wondered leaning back against Quatre, whose mount he shared.

"You've got your own feet under you again T-baby, that's a good sign." Duo flashed him a smile. "ZZ and T wouldn't have let you ride with kitty a day ago because, even though he and Sandy have an understanding, he's new to the saddle and that would have been 'iffy with you too out of it to handle the reigns."

"I still feel strange." Trowa admitted, "As if my mind isn't quite focused and I've got double vision." Seeing the look of sudden concern darken WuFei's gaze the young man clarified. "I see fine." Momentarily focusing his attention on his surroundings; green eyes drinking in the orderly geometry of fields and crops, interspersed with small groups of dwellings, and a network of roads leading in all directions around the town, the whole scene framed silver ribbons of river and the pink limestone lines of the walls sheltering the town where they had spent the night.

"That is 'Verona I recognized the name when Treize told me but before waking this morning could not have said I had ever been there. Someone…a mercenary captain I think he was, taught me that eighty or ninety years ago the senate sent six-thousand former soldiers to this place in order to 'transform the natural environment' into a place of 'civilization.' But another part of my mind rejects this knowledge and the one who gave it me. It insists civilization existed before the meddling of the _Rumax _(Romans). That part insists the rocks and trees, the earth beneath our feet declares this place will always be '_Verucchio_, 'the city where the river splits.' There is the feeling that I _should_ recognize those grassy bulges on the hillside there as _Suthithi_, burial mounds containing the spirits of the _Rumate_. I _know_ this is where the elders of my village, had they lived, would have brought my parents to rest among the ancient kings of my people. Then again…I am a slave. I have no people...no name. I am Triton, I am Trua, I am Truna I am Nanani, I am none of these." Trowa shook his head and shrugged listlessly, the brunet curtain sliding over eyes of jade. "It is very confusing," He admitted.

Heero, who had been following at the rear of the column, dug in his heels to close distance with the others. His mount passing between Quatre's and Duo's. He slowed to match their pace only briefly locking his intense cobalt on the former _Retarii_. "You told me would always answer to Trowa." His voice was toneless but it had a hard edge. "That is the name you chose…all the others were given to you but that one you took."

"I did." Trowa nodded wonderingly. "I took it, so I suppose it IS mine."

Heero nodded curtly and spurred his horse forward to fall into position behind Zechs silver-gray charger.

"You have people too." Quatre said quietly. Trowa held Sandrock's reigns and the smaller boy laced his arms around the other slave's waist to keep steady in the saddle. "We are your people…your family; if you will have us."

The declaration was a little too intense for Duo and he felt the urge to say something, anything, so Trowa wouldn't feel obligated to respond. But what he came up with was, "So, Fei, have you ever _had_ a family?" His midnight stallion sidled up to the scholar's red roan. Obsidian eyes flashed with fire and for an instant Duo suspected he would get some acerbic comment like "What, do you think I hatched, or grew from a tree perhaps?" but no.

The dark-eyed slave's expression softened and his voice took on a wistful tone, almost reverent. "I loved my mother." WuFei admitted with uncharacteristic tenderness.

"Your Father?" Quatre asked.

"I saw him twice. Once when I was about four, a column of soldiers was passing through the Long village. He was at their head carrying the imperial standard. Mother pointed him out to me. The second time was when I was in the capital with Master Ron he was standing at the emperor's elbow, whispering in his ear. He must have been a very important man, one of the greatest generals. My Mother was a strong woman. All others pale by comparison. She would only have conceded to be with a man beloved of Nataku. But I don't think he ever knew about me. Or if he did, he didn't care."

"Treize cares--" Duo bit his lip uncertainly. "--or seems to at least."

"He does. Zechs too, though I think it confuses him." Quatre confirmed a bit dreamily. "I can feel it

-----------------

Weeks ago, Quatre would never have dared tell anyone about his uncanny perceptions. But Zechs assured him that empathy wasn't a curse to be hidden away or ignored. It was something inborn, a gift to be nurtured and used to help those you care about. The realization had taken time to get used to but the others had seemed supportive. Duo even admitted he had similar abilities of his own. But being Quatre's 'gift' didn't extend to mind-reading and the blonde wondered whether the others thought he might be less than sane when he just came out and said things like that.

Granted he was a bit more out of touch, emotionally speaking, than usual. He had been blocking himself off from his companions for the better part of a week. Since Lady Dorothy's unexpected appearance in the villa they had been taking turns running riot with his soul-sense. Emotion from one or another battered almost constantly against the walls he had built to protect himself and he had been sure it was only a matter of time before his perpetually sunny disposition crumbled and left him a sobbing wreck. It had nearly happened when Duo had run off. But with Trowa down…Duo missing and the rest tied up in their own emotional turmoil…they could not afford to have him fall apart too. And so the young blonde has grit his teeth, smiled and continued on with a tenacity that might have even impressed Yuy.

But the emotional assault on his shields was lessening. Trowa was regaining his psychological balance. Duo was resolving what ever issues he has had since before he had run away. WuFei's amorphous sense of guilt had mellowed and Zechs and Treize seemed to have left what ever troubled them at the Villa. With Trowa feeling better and the quest well underway he had risked lowering his shields a bit more than he ought after getting a read on the masters…and was nearly hit in the teeth by Heero's…he didn't even have a word for the sensation, or rather lack there of. It was as if he were eclipsed in shadow…or void. If he was any judge, Quatre suspected this, what ever it was, was a fairly new development. In fact, he was sure he had felt _something_ from the other boy hammering against his shield when he had spoken to Trowa before riding past; but now there was nothing, it was like Heero had no emotions at all. Quatre shivered and tightened his hold on Trowa's svelte waist.

"Are you all right?" The other slave asked, leaning into Quatre's chest, seeking refuge against the mid morning chill.

"I'm worried for Heero." The blonde sighed. "He fought the local champion and won but he has been…different…since. More like the way he was when we were in the slave markets together. I'm having trouble sensing him.

"Hmm." Trowa rumbled pursing his lips into a thin line.

Chapter 25 notes

Closing his thumb in his fist. Hollywood mythos tells us that in the arena the audience would dictate the fate of the defeated by using the 'thumbs up' or 'thumbs down' gesture. Historians concur that 'thumbs down' meant death it was the representation of plunging the sword into the body, likewise the thumb up drawn across the neck meant 'slit his throat' but there is no account for the thumbs-up everything is o.k. signal popularize by one Arthur Fonzerelli on happy-days. In-stead the gladiator's sword was symbolically sheathed by hiding it in the palm. Shaking a closed fist means nothing good to modern audiences to alterations have been made. I figure that in a crowd as large as those in the arena any signals were largely lost especially with the blood pumping in their ears and the adrenalin running high in their veins. So like the umpire in a base-ball game the fighter looks to his trainer, or the master of ceremonies, (ie the emperor) to decide his opponents fate. Luckily Zechs knew what he needed to do.

Duo's attempted defection took place in Arminium (Modern Rimini) it was in the days of the Romans it was a major military and trading harbor. Situated at the junction of several important roads making it a strategic junction for communications between the north and the centre of the country, as well as the point of departure for long routes towards central and eastern Europe. One route through the Marecchia valley (via Arretina) that existed since pre-historic times. If Treize were following an equally ancient but less traveled route through the mountains it might have converged with this road. In addition "pedemontana" track emerged from Arminium and proceeded northwards, along the coastal routes.

The ancient routes, with the exception of the Via Arretina, were honored with the title of consular roads, the motorways of the time, prime players in the process of conquering territory and favoring the economic interests of the Roman state would have been equipped with way stations and accommodations at regular intervals. The Via Flaminia, (the road Treize should have) taken begins, at the Milvian bridge in Rome and ends at Porta Romana, the southern gateway to Ariminum. the Via Aemilia (187 B.C.) begins at the opposite extremity of the city, crossing the river Ariminus, traverses the Po Valley Plain in a north-westerly direction and touches all the towns at the confluence of the Appenine valleys as far as Milan; the Via Popillia (132 B.C.), the natural continuation northwards of the Via Flaminia coincides for a little way with the Via Aemilia but then follows the coast as far as Aquileia. Treize was very careful not to miss the turn off this time. So he made it to Veronia.

If you recall Verona was the setting for Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. It had a long history of conflict. It was originally Etruscan but became a Roman colony in the year 89 BC, it was elevated to a 'municipium' in 49 BC. The former ford was replaced by two bridges, one of which, the Pothumius Bridge, acted also as aqueduct and as dam where naval battles were staged in the Theater on the shore. The city also had a forum, not far from the current Piazza delle Erbe. This was the location where Heero had his confrontation with the local champion. Outside the city walls was a famous Arena the remains of which are still fairly intact today. but this impressive structure was not complete until 30 AD so it would likely still have been under construction during our boys visi. Like the town of Arminium, Verona's strategic importance lay in its position at the junction of four main roads: the Via Gallica, from Turin to Aquileia, Via Postumia, from Liguria to Illyria, the Vicum Veronensis, which connected the city to Ostiglia and last, the Via Claudia Augusta, which our fellows will be using to travel northward into the wilds of Germania.


	26. Cast in Tumult & Resolve

Author note: Over the past week I've debated whether I should split this section or not in the end it looks like I've decided to leave it broken in two sections but I'm posting them together. I hope you don't mind there is a notes section in the middle and another at the end. It seemed the best compromise. I hope you enjoy the little bonus. Heero was rather insistent I not drag his anxt out over several chapters. He still hasn't forgiven me for doing that with Trowa. Note the death glare? I'm being conciliatory now…he may regret this decision when he learns what I have in store for him later. We'll see.

Chapter 26 Cast in Tumult

Heero's face was expressionless and his eyes hard as he maneuvered his mount close in behind his lanista. He could hear the others talking behind him but beyond reminding Trowa of his promise he didn't try to understand what the others were talking about. It was a distraction. And he had permitted himself to be distracted far too much of late. This was his place. This was where he was meant to be. At his master's heals awaiting command. It was what he had been made for. His dispassionate gaze raked the tree line almost daring any threat to emerge. He transferred both reigns into one hand so the other could caress the pommel of the swords lashed across the front horns of his saddle. He would have preferred having them in the twin sheathes across his back but his marble-white mount tended to be…frolicsome, and its surging motion might dislodge them if he wasn't careful.

The party had left the substance of civilization behind. In this part of the river valley possessed only scattered farming settlements of the simplest sort. The road itself was much narrower then any they had traversed since crossing the Apennines. Gone were the regular paving stones and wide drainage ditches. In many places the horse's hooves stirred up clouds of loose soil as they thundered past. The dust stuck to skin and made the leather straps of his harness chafe but that sort of discomfort was easy to ignore.

The path bent suddenly like a taunt bow and the dense trees fell away to reveal a stunning vista. Master had warned them that the task ahead was a daunting one but Heero had no proper appreciation of the fact until that second. He did not even register pulling up his reigns to halt his mount between Zech's gray charger and Treize's roan. Heero was painfully aware if his discipline slipped any farther he might have been caught in slack jawed amazement at the sight of the valleys meandering journey to the place where the jagged bones of the earth raked the sky. The pirates of the red-eyed-jay had found harbor within sight of the peeks of mount Olympus and if he was any judge, these eternally snow-clad heights made the famed home of the gods seem paltry by comparison.

'Focus.' Odin's stern command echoed in the confines of his mind. 'Focus and be ready. Always; put aside distraction and live in the moment. Breathe.' Heero did so and the thunder of his heartbeat quieted. Heero ruthlessly tamped down his emotions and brought himself under control once more. The reaction had been second nature in the ring. You could not risk letting your opponent catch you in a moment of weakness.

Still, he hated to acknowledge those 'moments' had been occurring with increasing frequency since his assignment with house Kushrenada. And the whole situation with Trowa had awoken a silent fear of loosing control. And so he sought refuge in the one place he was practically guaranteed mastery over the situation…battle. His master hadn't been happy when he had taken down the champion of Verona. Despite the coin brought in Treize said it was not good that he had put himself at risk. But what other value had he? What other refuge from the unpredictable forces that raged in his blood? The rules of his new position confused him and so he slipped back into the embrace of his training; folding in on himself till there was nothing left.

"Amazing isn't it." Zechs sighed, his voice heavy with longing for his homeland beyond those imposing heights.

Heero could only nod dumbly. He opened his mouth hoping the act would enable him to properly articulate how, despite his failure to act in accord with his master's will, he was grateful they deemed him useful enough to assist in the mission -- when a shrill scream rent the air.

Feeling his rider's nervousness at the sound the white stallion sidled and pranced. Heero, Zechs and Treize looked about wildly to locate the distress call's origin. Trowa, Quatre, WuFei and Duo who had lagged behind lost in conversation now spurred their horses into a gallop to close the distance. Another scream rent the air. This time followed by shouts and clashing of steal on steal that made Heero's blood sing in his veins. His twin swords were free from their scabbards in a heartbeat and he had all he could do to hold himself back. The beast danced beneath him in response.

"There." Treize pointed, another road ran parallel to their own. This one stretched out across the flood plain on the valley floor. A dozen brigands had emerge from a copse of trees trapping a caravan of several ox drawn wagons in a narrow draw against what Zechs identified as the Adige River. This was not their battle…the people in the vale below were strangers…there was no benefit in interfering. But Master Treize's posture said otherwise. He had been a general of the battle field not the parade ground and the young gladiator practically begged for command. Every fiber of his being screamed for blood the call was difficult to ignore.

"Fight?!" Heero barely had the presence of mind to ask. Though he noted lanista Zechs had his sword drawn as well.

Treize nodded once lifting his hand to cast the golden eagle aloft, "Volō!" (Latin: fly!) He urged. That was all it took, Heero shot off like an arrow from the bowstring. It was as of his mount truly had wings. The wolves knew the command as well, charging down the sloping hillside hot on his hooves. Treize, Zechs and the others charged along with him.

Duo was whooping and hollering making a racket the hounds of Hades would approve of, anything to distract the brigands from their intended target. Trowa had his trident couched under his arm as if it were a lance and WuFei's curved blade sang through the air. Heero leapt from the back of his charging steed flinging himself at his nearest opponent blades first. The man was dead twice over before he had properly gained the ground.

After that initial strike he was cognizant of nothing but the ebb and flow of the battle tide. Spinning and dodging cut and thrust. It was a deadly dance in which he was bred to excel. Men died at each strike. And he reveled in it, chilling laughter bubbled up from the depths, freezing the soul. Opponents were dwindling, fleeing before him but he wasn't finished yet, perusing the man into the underbrush before he could disappear into the woods that had concealed the raiding party from their intended target. The panicked man fell before him but he sensed there was another hiding nearby. Leaves rustled and he spun murder in his eyes.

"Heero no!" Duo's voice seemed far away. He didn't want to listen.

"Don't!" Quatre screamed as well. But it was the voice of his lanista he dared not ignore.

"Dēsistō! Ecce!" (Latin: Stop, Look!) Zechs commanded

Heero's cobalt blues focused to see his blood slick blades crossed upon the slim neck of a girl child, barely more than four years old. Her lip trembled and brown eyes were fairly brimming with tears. She dared not make a sound but the tawny ball of fur she clutched whimpered piteously. 'My enemy… where is my… who is my …enemy?' his benumbed mind asked. No answer came. He blinked, brows creased in confusion. Heero frowned, posture shifting from aggression to defense.

The child must have sensed the change come over him because she licked her lips to wet them and stammered out a quiet, "H-hello," still hugging the puppy tight to her chest. "Mary and me almost got lost. Were you lost too?" She asked tilting her head to one side

"Hn." He grunted vividly aware of his gore spattered state. He felt very lost indeed.

The child held out a half-wilted flower to him as if that would make everything better. "Here," she offered.

Heero transferred both swords to one hand and tried wiping his blood stained fingers on his tunic. Still his hand trembled as he took the slightly crumpled bloom. Then the realization of what he had almost done hit him hard. He stumbled back several paces and fell to his knees retching into the tall grass. The little in his stomach quickly vacated and he was left heaving and shivering, gasping for breath between spasms as he sobbed. "Hay, are you going to be all right?" the girl asked but her voice was diminishing as someone, probably Quatre, led her away.

Heero was only vaguely aware Zechs was kneeling beside him, What was important was the fact that the trailing end of the chain affixed to his slave collar was unclipped and wound securely around his trainers fist. The man's other hand was resting on his shoulder "Shh, shh, calm. It's all right." Zechs whispered. "You didn't do it, she is safe…they are all safe. It's all right little brother. _Pax vobiscum Hero. Adsum, Ego agnosco_." (Latin: be at peace Heero. I'm here, I understand)

Though it wasn't the language of his birth the formal Latin resonated with the distraught gladiator. That was the language the _doctores_ used when they were instructing him in something that was especially important. He shuddered clutching his knees to his chest and tried to get a hold of himself as well.

Master Treize dropped to one knee on his other side offering his wineskin to wash the bitter taste from his mouth. Heero took it reluctantly and gulped the delicately rose scented elixir down; Ashamed of his weakness. "Are you feeling better now?" the master asked.

Heero nodded but found it difficult to look the other man in the eye. "I'm sorry master…sorry I shamed you…sorry I…have failed you again. I lack restraint."

"You have not failed me Heero." Treize whispered soothingly, "I may not be of the arena like Zechs and Trowa. I was not been trained as you have been, but I have been in battles aplenty. I have seen how many fates cross and pass each other in he battle fray. I have seen matching strength and skill against another and prevailing against great odds is a test of a true and noble spirit. You possess that spirit Heero. The purity and passion with which you fight is a beautiful thing; truly inspiring. I can not fault you for it."

Heero frowned not sure of he was capable of following his master's complex logic. He fought yes…but things could have turned out so horribly, horribly wrong. In the end it left him feeling more like a beast then man. He picked a blade of grass and twirled it between his fingers.

Treize understood his reluctance. "What we did today was a far cry from killing for killing sake. At times those of noble spirit are called to war against the forces that spread chaos. We were protecting honor and life by defending peace. Life is supremely precious and as I have said I do not wish you risking yours needlessly. You are truly irreplaceable but you are also extraordinarily skilled. Those who possess the will to fight should do so in a cause that is truly worthy of them; such as acting to protect others. You did so on countless occasions this past hour. We acted to protect the merchant of course but beyond that, you came to Quatre's aide when he was getting in over his head. You rallied when Trowa's strength was beginning to flag. You supported Wufei, Duo and Zechs; ensuring they never faced more than one enemy at a time. You took on the brunt of the curs yourself and even managed to guard my back a time or two during the fight. It seemed you were everywhere at once. Where ever we needed you, you were there. It was awe inspiring.

I am well aware you lost your bearings at the end. But don't be too hard on yourself. It happens to the best of us at times. Swords are two-edged after all and cut both ways. Most importantly you DID stop in time. Had we not acted the merchant would likely be dead and his daughter and wife and infant son sold on the block. Apparently these brigands have been harassing the townsfolk hereabouts for months and are just as prone to kidnapping and murder as they are to theft. They were former mercenaries of no small skill. In coming against them the seven of us meshed together like the gears on a water mill…Though I expect you'd prefer being compared to components of one of Marcus Vitruvius' ballistae. Regardless, what I mean to say is each part works together flawlessly in support of the whole. That is precisely what we achieved today. I am actually quite proud."

After handing the wineskin back to his master Heero hugged his arms to his chest. "I-I think I'd like to be alone for a bit…If that is all right."

"Of course Heero." Treize squeezed his shoulder gently. "We need not set off right away. Maybe you'd like to clean up in the river. I expect you will find the water cold but refreshing."

The gladiator looked down at his arms and tunic spattered with blood and gore and sighed before rocking back onto his heals getting to his feet to head to the river.

Chapter 26 notes:

The Via Claudia Augusta stretched from the Adriatic town of Altinum near Venice and the ancient ferry port of Hostiglia (now Ostiglia on the river Po) across the Reschen Pass and the Fern Pass to the Danube. This 500 kilometre military supply route was for centuries the most important connection between the Roman motherland and its rich provinces to the north. The road is an impressive example of how Roman road building conquered nature. As with the aqueducts, the Roman water channels, they surmounted all obstacles; no hill was too high and no river too wide for the Roman road builders.

During this period the road was still under construction later when conflict with the Germanic tribes heats the Romans needed well-paved roads on solid foundations able move their legions quickly, The road in 11AD could not yet accommodate heavy iron-clad wheels of supply carts but was serviceable for foot soldiers Calvary units and pack animals. The modern route of the Via Claudia Augusta boasts campsites all along its path and is a favorite of cyclists.

Marcus Vitruvius Pollio (born c. 80–70 BC, died after c. 15 BC) was a Roman writer, architect and engineer active in the 1st century BC. By his own description Vitruvius served as a Ballista (artilleryman), the third class of arms in the military offices. He likely served as chief of the ballista (senior officer of artillery) in charge of doctores ballistarum (artillery experts) and libratores who actually operated the machines. He has been called by some 'the world's first known engineer' I expect Treize would have been fascinated by the achievements of such a man and studied his achievements even after his military career was over. That being the case, how could I not make use of the opportunity to make comparisons between the 'perfect soldier' and the premier weapon of the day? The ballista (Latin, from Greek βαλλίστρα - ballistra and that from - βάλλω ballō, "to throw"), plural ballistae, was a weapon developed from earlier Greek weapons. It relied upon different mechanics, using two levers with torsion springs instead of a prod, the springs consisting of several loops of twisted skeins. Early versions ejected heavy darts or spherical stone projectiles of various sizes for siege warfare. It developed into a smaller sniper weapon, the Scorpio, and possibly the polybolos. After the absorption of the Ancient Greek city-states into the Roman Republic in 146 BC, the highly advanced Greek technology began to spread across many areas of Roman influence.

Early Roman ballistae were made of wood, and held together with iron plates around the frames and iron nails in the stand. The main stand had a slider on the top, into which were loaded the bolts or stone 'shot'. Attached to this, at the back, was a pair of 'Winches' and a 'Claw', used to ratchet the bowstring back to the armed firing position. The slider passed through the field frames of the weapon, in which were located the torsion springs (rope made of animal sinew), which were twisted around the bow arms, which in turn were attached to the bowstring. Drawing the bowstring back with the winches twisted the already taut springs, storing the energy to fire the bolts. The bronze or iron caps which secured the torsion-bundles were adjustable by means of pins and peripheral holes, which allowed the weapon to be tuned for symmetrical power and for changing weather conditions. The ballista was a highly accurate weapon (there are many accounts of single soldiers being picked off by ballista operators), but some design aspects meant it could compromise its accuracy for range. The maximum range was over 500 yards (460 m), but effective combat range for many targets was far shorter.

Treizes study if Vitruvius was not limited to weapons of warfare technology. He was also one of the first to record the operation of the water-mill (mola aquaria, in Latin). Vitruvius described "a cogged wheel, attached to the axis of the water-wheel, turned another which was attached to the axis of the upper mill-stone; the corn to be ground fell between the stones out of a hopper (infundibulum), which was fixed above them. The particular mill Vitruvius was referring to was installed in the palace of Mithridates VI who ruled Pontus in northern Anatolia (now in Turkey) between 119 to 63 BC. King Mithridates VI was of Greek and Persian origin and claimed descent from both Alexander the Great and King Darius I of Persia. He fought and won several remarkable wars against Rome and was an ancestor of Quatre's friend Mithridates son of Vonones I of Parthia -- More will be said of them later.

Chapter 27 Resolve

Quatre and Duo looked to be in intense conversation with the drovers they had come to rescue and the little girl was perched in one of the ox carts, her pup was yipping and jumping about, likely wanting to introduce himself to the wolf pair. They were nearly as blood spattered as he was lounging beside Trowa. The green eyed Retarii looked truly exhausted but unharmed. The ever fastidious WuFei had just come from the river his ebony hair glistened wetly and curled at the nape of his neck. He didn't say anything but as he passed handed Heero a mostly dry towel and a lump of tallow soap that smelled vaguely of sandalwood.

The gladiator mumbled a 'thank you' and went off to a secluded spot amidst the cattails and reeds. Treize's eagle chirruped speculatively and came to rest on a tree branch. Its dagger sharp beak and talons neatly snapping the head off a fish it had ripped from the sparkling waters before devouring it.

Heero plunged his head into the frigid water then went about systematically cleaning the battle residue from the rest of him. It took less time than he had hoped and he wasn't ready to rejoin the others just yet. He settled to clean and sharpen his swords in the shade of a tree WuFei had identified as a black poplar. The former temple slave and Treize had made something of a game of identifying trees as they rode. Heero thought he could see oak, elm, willow, hazel and ash growing on an island in the midst of the river; at least he thought that was what they were. How a boy who hailed from an empire half a world away seemed to know something about just about everything never ceased to amaze him…and remind him just how sheltered his own upbringing had been in comparison.

He sighed and leaned against the tree trunk then closed his eyes. In less time than he thought possible he slipped back to the suffocating confines of the _Statilii Tauri_ Amphitheater. He could feel the sun warmed sand under his bear feet and hear the roar of the crowd chanting for blood. His winged helm was fastened tightly beneath his chin and his swords gleamed. But he knew in his heart that the battles he had been made for were not the sort that impressed Treize. There wasn't anything 'just' or 'noble' about what the _doctores_ called for him to do. He was not a warrior but an executioner. And those men, put before him had not been villains. They were men, fathers and sons who had done nothing but dare to voice a view contrary to that of the senate. That had been enough for the fellows of Rome to sign their death warrant and condemn their women and children to follow them to the underworld.

He hated it…he hated it with all his heart. The _doctores_ commanded and he must obey…but Odin told him to follow his heart. "I refuse." He had said. "I will not kill innocents." He insisted sheathing his swords in the sand…then the keepers let their darts fly home, biting into his flesh, setting his blood aflame till is vision clouded and he saw nothing but red; Making him rage like an animal…his hands awash with blood. This time he had embraced the killing haze willingly and nearly became a slayer of children once more. A murderer of those he came to protect and defend.

Heero was startled from his revere when something warm and furry pressed into his chest. The brindled she-wolf whined and begged to have her ears scratched. Trowa eased himself down on the grass beside him, and handed him an oilskin pouch. "We'll be ready to move on soon. Duo says you haven't been eating much lately. You know that isn't healthy, especially after a fight. I've got a flask of Sekanjabin too it will help settle you."

"Hn," was his usual non-committal reply. He knew it was only a matter of time before Duo told someone he'd been skipping meals. And Trowa cleverly knew just what to say to get him to eat. Of course his stomach didn't hurt quite so much as it had been and his appetite seemed to return as Trowa's strength did. Heero drank from the flask before returning it to his companion. Examining the pouch revealed some dried meat and a wedge of cheese. The cheese was unusual, punctuated as it was with cherry sized holes. His first thought was that something had been eating it, Rats perhaps…but unlike some of what he was given when the _doctores_ were displeased with him, there were no telltale teeth marks. It was as if the holes had been punched or carved out out by something about the size of one of his blades, though some were as small as the tines of Trowa's trident. But round? Not even a spear or throwing knife would leave marks like these; besides, who would use a wheel of cheese for target practice? Duo? He mused.

Noting his scrutiny and perhaps guessing at the cause Trowa offered, "It is supposed to look like that. Zechs says it is called _'Alpâchāsi'_ (Old High German meaning 'Alp Cheese') He practically grew up on the stuff. The cart master gets it from one of the mountain villages and makes quite a profit selling it further south. He split a wheel and gave us some as thanks for dealing with the bandits. It is not bad. I already tried it."

Heero nibbled it experimentally and found the flavor soft and nutty rather than sharp and dry as he was accustomed too. "You're right, it isn't bad. You have been eating less than I have. I'm glad you are feeling better." He told the green eyed youth.

"I'm glad you are feeling better." Trowa responded peering through his curtain of hair and then sighed. "We are quite the pair aren't we? I'm surprised Treize is still willing to put up with us."

"He never once considered selling you off. Quatre was afraid he might, you were delirious for a while." Heero reflected. "Zechs suggested you might be better off recovering back at the villa but Treize wouldn't allow it. He said not knowing how you were would drive him to distraction. He didn't mind looking after you. Did you know He even sent word telling Lady Une to find your Cathy at the circus and buy out her contract; He wasn't sure whether she was your sister or not but he knew you cared for her and that was enough for him. She should be at the Villa when we get back."

"I didn't know that." Trowa admitted leaning his chin on his knees.

"And you are right, we are a pair." Heero reflected, "Or rather a unit, part of a set--like Treize wanted."

"Pity each of us is a bit cracked." Trowa smirked,

Heero felt a ghost of a smile flick across his own features as well. "That is how you can tell we match." He added playfully. "Everyone thinks Treize is cracked too. With some of his ideas I'm not surprised."

"Hmmm, people underestimate him. That is a dangerous mistake." the lithe youth stretched out on the grass lacing his fingers behind his head. "He would tell you that appearance isn't what matters it is what is inside that counts. Did you see the nice job Duo and WuFei did mending my mask? Quatre says it has character. I think we are like that too, works in progress, that's all."

"It is enough." Heero admitted, "For now anyway."

Chapter 27 notes

The popularity of the poplar tree The Po Basin is located in northern Italy, where it forms a rift between the Italian peninsula and the mainland. In researching the native flora and fauna of this area I learned it was once covered in mixed deciduous oak forest and riparian forest That is to say forest adjacent to wetlands in this a case flood basin. The Po Basin has been intensively transformed into agricultural land since medieval times, and today it retains little of its natural vegetation. A concentrated effort is underway in attempt to restore the old natural forests if the flood plane including the trees I listed in this chapter. Black and white Poplar trees are two of the most representative and threatened forest tree species. So much so that they are considered to be on the verge of extinction in Europe. Agriculturists have launched initiatives to protect their DNA by collecting seeds and pollen and implementing various conservation strategies.

In checking whether WuFei would be able to identify the 'Poplar trees' I stumbled on an article which stated Beijing is home to home to more than 300,000 of them. The article went on to say these trees produce copious amounts of pollen which has overwhelmed the city blanketing everything in a snowfall of white fluff. Hospitals in Beijing have received increasing numbers of patients who suffer from asthma or allergies after inhaling the pollen. In effort to combat this 'menace' Chinese Arborists are starting to inject some "female" trees with hormones in an experiment to change their nature so no pollen would be produced. I it just me or is does that seem particularly ironic?

Cheese is an ancient food whose origins predate recorded history. The earliest archeological evidence of cheese making has been found in Egyptian tomb murals, dating to about 2000 BC. The first cheese may have been made by people in the Middle East or by nomadic Turkic tribes in Central Asia. Since animal skins and inflated internal organs have, provided storage vessels for a range of foodstuffs since ancient times, it is probable that the process of cheese making was discovered accidentally by storing milk in a container made from the stomach of an animal, resulting in the milk being turned to curd and whey by the rennet from the stomach. There is a widely told legend about the discovery of cheese by an Arab trader who used this method of storing milk. The legend has many individual variations.

It is believed the earliest cheeses were likely to have been quite sour and salty, similar in texture to rustic cottage cheese or feta. But By Roman times, cheese was an everyday food and cheese making a mature art, not very different from what it is today. Pliny's Natural History (77 AD) devotes an entire chapter to describing the diversity of cheeses enjoyed by Romans of the early Empire. He stated that the best cheeses came from the villages near Nîmes in southern France, but did not keep long and had to be eaten fresh. Cheeses of the Alps and Apennines were as remarkable for their variety then as now. I am particularly fond of Jarlesburg and I think the boys would be too.


	27. Turnabout

Chapter 28: Turnabout

"Heero…Have you named that beast of yours?" Duo asked as they left the way station of Tridentum (Trento) behind them. The braided urchin had long ago decided that conversation was the best way to stay awake when you would rather be dozing. They had arrived long after sunset the night before and the day had barely begun and Zechs was already urging them onward. This close to the mountains the blonde prince was practically champing at the bit in his haste to be gone. Duo wouldn't be surprised if the platinum prince hadn't gotten so much as a wink of sleep the whole night just sitting there watching the flames in the hearth waiting for the others to wake. It was a bit unsettling.

Heero chewed on his lip absently and the silence stretched between them.

Duo wondered if the cobalt eyed slave intended to answer or whether he too had learned to tune out his near incessant chatter. WuFei could sleep quite easily in the saddle and couldn't even be teased into reacting this early in the morning. And Trowa had been through so much recently it didn't seem fair to bother him…so he left out Quatre too, since he was still hovering like a mother hen around their green eyed companion. Making sure he ate and seeing he didn't overexert himself. Zechs and Treize thought Tro was well enough to ride his own mount again, but it looked as if Sandrock wasn't the only one that regretted the return of the more restrictive saddle and single, nominally experienced rider. Not that Duo himself was any more skilled than Quatre had been, but his Buddy Death hadn't had the opportunity to get used to T-bear's sure hand guiding his reigns. Though he had to admit simply watching how Trowa carried himself as they rode together made Quat's horsemanship improve by leaps and bounds. Duo liked to think he had been improving as well. He didn't want the others to know he had cornered Fei to give him some pointers.

"Wing." Heero answered finally, the stream of Duo's consciousness had practically swept him beyond remembering that he had in fact posed a question to the other boy. Violet eyes looked vacant as he retraced the meandering path of his mind to find out the impetus behind the seemingly random word. Quatre saved him though by smiling beatifically and adding, "What a wonderful name Heero. I am so glad Sandrock and I have become friends. It makes things so much easier. He listens to me now and I'm not nearly so stiff as before. Does your horse have a name Trowa?"

Duo frowned feeling a surge of protectiveness for his green-eyed friend. Trowa had been so fragile. At present the youth was lucky to have a name himself …expecting him to have one for his horse might be pushing things. He reasoned Quatre shouldn't push.

'Yes' Trowa offered then looked away, his veil of hair concealing his expression though it seemed that was all he intended to say on the matter.

"Our Boy T is good with animals if'n you recall--" Duo declared filling in the wordless void. Trying to take the attention off the green eyed youth."'--heavy-hooves' here isn't any exception."

"That's not it." Trowa said softly quiet as a summer breeze.

"What is not what?" Heero frowned.

"I wouldn't call her Heavy Hooves, WuFei is right. Names have power and shouldn't be given lightly. Only a cart horse should be called Huatna' (ponderous). Mi Tamna et nama Hethari (my horse is called Hethari)" The young man realized he had lapsed once more into his native tongue and shook his head as if to clear it before continuing. "Huatna means Heavy in _Raśna'_ which my Tamna clearly isn't. I call her Hethari."

"Heather?' well she is brown." Duo reflected.

"Hethari means subtle and spirited." Treize clarified and Trowa's shoulders relaxed seemingly relieved he didn't need to explain further. Duo easily directing his attention to Treize and suggested, "You don't always have to call a thing what it is. You can twist it to mean the opposite, Like calling a teensy puppy 'bear'… or the lad everyone flocks to 'Solo'" Duo said the last a bit more sedately.

"You mean Irony." Treize offered with a knowing smirk, "It is often an inside joke, something of a trial to explain…take for instance poor old tired _Tǽlgōs."_ He said the last a bit louder pitching the words at Zechs who, riding at the head of the column with Heero, hadn't really been paying attention to the conversation.

The reaction was immediate; in that the proud prince turned his head so fast he nearly launched himself from the saddle, a rebuttal on the tip of his tongue. "He is not!" Then he noted the raised brow and smirk of amusement on his companions face and knew he had played right into his hand. Zechs pretended to pout, "_Taliágæs _is neither tired nor old as well you know." He sniffed diffidently, "Tease me if you will but, my horse has done nothing to disserve such disregard." Then amended under his breath, "Not lately anyway."

"Oh yes, I dare say, one disregards _Tǽlgōs_ at their own peril." Treize announced and Zechs cheeks pinked unaccountably.

Though he would never admit it aloud, Duo felt that, aside from his own night-stallion, Zechs' steed, was the most stunning. Its body was dappled silver gray with dark mane, tail, and legs. It seemed strange that the noble creature would be called Tall-geese. The looks Zechs and Treize exchanged seemed to imply there lay some private 'irony' in that name; though it didn't look as if they meant to share; Which was hardly sporting. Duo raised a brow speculatively.

Treize caught the look and sighed; With those dastardly forked brows he looked a bit like a child that had been caught at something particularly naughty. Duo barely resisted the urge to giggle.

"Zechs is endlessly proud of that goose-gray monstrosity of his. With good reason," The ginger haired man explained, _Taliágæs_ was little more than an overtly frisky yearling and Zechs a gangly youth, when I first met them -- you can see for yourself what they've become."

It wasn't an outright lie, Duo would have known if it were. This was a purposeful evasion; artful in its own right, but not the entire story…not by a long shot. But Duo had come to know the man he called his master could be quite tight lipped when he wanted to.

"See its harmless Tro, nothing to worry about." Duo grinned.

"Oh I wouldn't say that." Treize amended, "Irony can entertaining but you must be careful. An ill conceived turn of phrase can be a scathing weapon. I wouldn't attempt such things with anyone I didn't know extremely well. When my injury ended my career and left me largely housebound Dorothy found it oh so amusing to constantly remind me my deceased parents named me 'Janus' after the god of travel. It was irony, but before WuFei's intervention I couldn't appreciate it. I never let her know just how it bothered me of course, but she knew. I was having a difficult time trying coming to terms with fact that riding as far as the capital would leave me in pain for hours. She didn't help at all. I was even self-conscious with Zechs and _Tali _fearing they would get board keeping pace with Epion and I and find something better to do.

"Never happen." Zech snorted leaning forward along his mounts neck to scratch behind the silver-gray ears. His own white-gold tresses falling forward blanketing the arched equine neck mingling with the stallions iron colored mane. "I am quite aware how you need us to keep you out of trouble…or attempt to anyway. Even during the worst days you never let your hurts slow you down that much--even when it would have made sense to. As I recall most days you are more likely to wear us out than the reverse."

Duo wasn't really listening to the elder blonde. Instead he was still focused on what Treize had said and finally turned to his obsidian eyed companion, "Do you _really_ hate me for mangling your name WuFei?" he asked contritely, violet eyes peering through wispy chestnut bangs.

The dragon let out his breath in a massive puff. "In the beginning yes, it annoyed me no end. You see my name not only tells who I am, it tells what I am and where I come from. It encapsulates all I am. Chang is my people, my clan. Wu is the name of mountains where I grew up, mountains very different than these, older I think, with many terraced valleys clothed in mist and lakes that sparkle like diamonds; my true home. And lastly 'Fei' is the name my dear mother gave me, it means 'flight' a reminder she wished me to always be bold and unafraid and strive to be the best in all do. Regardless of that hope I lost everything I had ever known. I became furious because I believed your mocking disrespected not only myself, but my memory of Chang'an and all those I left behind."

"Oh gods 'Fei I really—"the braided boy gasped but WuFei held up a hand to forestall the apology.

"—Didn't mean it like that." The eastern youth finished for him. "I do understand that now. Your culture is different from my own; much more informal. Now I understand that by…making me react the way you did, you were trying to show me I could be part of something different -- Something unexpected. I think you do respect me …in your own twisted way." WuFei smirked and Duo was surprised how much that crooked smile looked like his own.

"You realize you aren't going to be as much fun to tease now, don't you, Chang WuFei?"

"You know what Maxwell, hearing my full name is strange coming from you. 'Fei' is fine. In Chang'an only my mother called me Fei I think it would honor her memory if my friends were to use the name too."

"Since we're being all forthright n'suff, May hap I ought ta do some X-plain'in too. Irony is like the only thing we can lay claim to in the streets. I mean I am only Duo because Solo was solo 'till he took me in the others came later. I like it when you call me Maxwell. Being an orphan I never had a sir name but my gang at Maximus Well was like family. Pretty much everyone I ran with died in the plague so I know what it feels like to be rootless. The boys that beg by the well now are all newcomers but if names do have power like you say, than recalling those I lost and making them a part of me keeps their memory alive. I like that idea. I really do. It makes sense,

"If course it makes sense, I said it didn't I?" Chang said with a superior aire that was mostly in jest. And that marked the end of a weighty discussion, and soon the two were bickering very like brothers.

----------------------

Heero was brooding again, and he knew it. WuFei had cuffed Duo for doing the same not to long ago. But the stone faced gladiator doubted any of his companions would be able to tell he was just as guilty. He had been well enough after speaking to Trowa but once they had resumed their trek through the mountain pass the shadow returned and his thoughts turned inexorably inward darkening as they did so.

Odin had always known when he was brooding. The man had also cuffed him lightly on the back of the head to get him to stop. But his first true master had been dead many long years and that was likely the cause of his most recent sulk. Quatre noticed something was amiss. Heero felt the weight of those deceptively innocent cerulean eyes more than once as they rode, but He was relatively sure the blonde was too engrossed in the conversation to pay any heed to him. They all were, and it was probably a good thing. He doubted even the blonde's uncanny perception could pierce the depth of focus his training had wrought but he wasn't feeling his best. He moved apart from the others, a physical manifestation of the mental and emotional gulf which would always separate him from them. He just didn't -- couldn't -- understand…even if he secretly wanted to. He was _different._

Heero sighed arching his back in the saddle as Wing trailed behind Tallgeese. They were in the lead. Treize had been, as was his right as master, but he had dropped back to converse with the others...something about irony? Heero half wished they would talk slower so he could follow or quieter so it wouldn't bother him so much. As Zechs was also included in the conversation Heero hastily came to regret his earlier desire to follow the discussion; wished he hadn't been reminded they all had families; even Duo had managed to steal one from the streets. And he hadn't. All he had had was Odin…and the man hadn't even seen fit to give him a proper name. It wasn't that he had lost it as Trowa had…he never had one to loose. No one had ever cared enough to give him one.

That was a bit harsh. Heero mentally amended. Odin had been good to him, harsh but good. His first real trainer had exhibited a surprising amount of patience in dealing with the wild thing he had been. Odin knew he required special handling. Any other would have refused to pay the price the pirates demanded after they deemed him too damaged and broken to ever amount to anything. But Odin had devoted more time on his behalf then any one had before or since. When the man guided him in learning the fight sequences his tone of voice had been soothing. Of all his trainers Odin alone had never been too afraid, or too superior, to meet his gaze, and never flinched away when he...reacted badly.

Heero genuinely regretted that, in the few short years he had with Odin he had barely understood a fraction of what the man said. Sometimes he would dream of the meals they had shared. Odin had talked at him at length and he tried to look attentive while struggling vainly to comprehend what the words meant. Language had been an issue of course, he suspected Odin spoke most often in Latin with a smattering of what had probably been Germanic and Greek -- though at the time all were equally alien to his ears. But there had been more to it than that.

The things Odin spoke about were so out side his experience he had no foundation on which understanding could take hold let alone grow. After all Odin had been the one who first told him to 'Follow his heart'…and though he thought he recognized those three simple words enough to remember them even after all this time he was only now learning what they meant. He hadn't the capacity to understand before, and wasn't entirely certain he did now. But it was a start at least.

The others were probably born knowing such things but he wasn't so lucky. And sometimes he wondered if the _doctores_ might have hit him over the head one too many times leaving him a bit slow. Not physically of course, that would not have been allowed. But the others never seemed to struggle so. Trowa understood, or Heero had thought the other boy did. But now, with his memories back…maybe he was more like the rest. He frowned.

Zechs tossed his head and snorted, as did Tallgeese and before Heero knew it he and Wing likewise entered a dense cloud of _culex_ (Latin: gnat/mosquito). The youth grunted in surprise then began swatting at the creatures smashing as many as he could against his arms chest and thighs.

"Aries!" Zechs cursed likewise slapping and waving trying to divest himself of the air-born menace

Treize, having noted the disturbance signaled the others to leave the trail and circle around to rejoin with the others once they had won their way free of the swarm. Zechs was panting, red marks already appearing on his neck and nearly every bit of exposed flesh. Heero's hair was looking wilder than usual and his honey toned skin was equally ruddy. It was a profound testament to Treize's training that the horses hadn't bolted outright at their riders' wild gyrations.

"That was some battle." Duo grinned "Didja win?"

Zechs tentatively touched one rapidly swelling mark on the line of his lip and let out a brief whimper.

"I know you 'prolly don't want to hear this…but mud helps take the sting out." Duo offered.

"I'll be _fine."_ Heero growled and spurred his horse forward.

Treize spurred Epion after him and when the two mounts were once more abreast he said. "Heero. Speak. _Ōrātō_!"

For the brief instant that silence hung in the air following the Latin command Heero imagined the look on his masters face if he were to respond with a quick bark, the way one of his wolves would but he wasn't Maxwell and his shoulders slumped dejected. "I'm sorry master."

"I have told you before I have no need for apologies. Especially if I don't know what is bothering you. I understand you were keyed up after the battle with those bandits then you seemed better after you spoke with Trowa. But now…" the man shook his head helplessly.

"Just cuff me up-side the head when I brood or have one of the others do it." Heero mumbled, "It used to work."

"I will not strike you for being introspective." Treize pursed his lips "I just wish you would trust us enough to share your concerns."

"Am I human?" Heero asked suddenly.

"W-what?" Treize blinked in surprise. "I'm not sure I understand, you mean '_Hūmānitās_' yes… Cultured, refined…civilized. Such things can be learned."

No, Am I _Hūmāna_…human. I have no family--Never had. Even in my most shadowy recollections I was an outsider. WuFei says I likely came from an isle of barbarian warriors on the outermost fringes of his world. Every culture agrees strange things happen at the edges of the world. For all I know…I may be one of those strange things. I was found by pirates; a child alone in the middle of the sea. That is a far cry from normal. My fighting skills have been compared to Achilles far more frequently than leave me comfortable. And look--" He held up his forearm, his honey tined skin awash with red blotches and welts. Heero could feel the maddening itch begin to burn where the insects' poison entered his bloodstream. The doctors had learned It would take a far, far greater quantity to affect _him_ for any length of time. He wasn't sure what Treize would make of it when the swelling diminished and the marks faded away even as he watched--the gods knew, he did not.

"Is that…normal?" Treize asked quietly.

"For me…yes." Heero nodded. "But I'd appreciate it if the others didn't know."

Chapter 28 notes

You probably guess Tǽlgōs and Taliágæs are both derivatives of Tallgese, in the first century Zechs's native language would have been the ancestor of both Anglo-Saxon and old Norse. In looking into these languages to translate the name of Zechs' Gundam I found the words meaning 'tall' show no resemblance to the word we recognize today they don't even start with the same letter. It was a bit of a stretch but 'Tali á gæs' in the Old Norse would mean something like 'he speaks to geese'. I'd imagine there is quite the story behind the name but thus far Zechs hasn't shared it with me. I can't say whether Treize is aware why the horse bears the name it does But being the thorough researcher I am…you are free to speculate what you will. The name Treize gives the beast is Tǽlgōs and from Anglo-Saxon could mean 'friendly goose' which rather reminds me of a horse I 'met' quite unexpectedly crossing a field at night while working on the Silchester dig. Needless to say it startled me quite a bit.

Finding Grounds for the name, Epion was a bit more difficult to puzzle out. According to Series material it was supposed to mean 'next' but I have no idea as to what language it was supposedly taken from.. The roan has not been with Treize as long as the grey has been with Zechs. And there is no denying that his previous mount was killed beneath him in battle so this what came 'next'. I made mention Treize's Mother was Greek. In Greek, Ēpios is an adjective meaning, affable, mild, gentle or kind. A fitting name given the beasts easy going nature. Also in Greek Epos is a noun meaning 'Speech' or 'word' the ancestor of our word 'Epic'. As I figure it, either could have inspired Treize to name the roan as he did.

Achilles was the greatest hero of the Trojan War According to Greek mythology and the central character of Homer's epic poem Iliad. Although completely reliable evidence is absent, most scholars date the Trojan War to the 12th or 13th century before Christ, and Homer's epic to the 7th or 8th century B.C. Achilles is also mentioned in fragments of other ancient poems, but it is uncertain if he was a historic figure or merely a symbolic depiction of heroic ideals.

The story goes that Achilles was the son of the sea-nymph Thetis and the mortal Peleus, king of the Myrmidons in Thessaly. Thetis tried to make her young son immortal by dipping him in the river Styx. There are also tales about Thetis holding young Achilles over the fire to burn away the mortal (human) elements inherited from his father. I would take this to mean that though he could not die, he could be affected by the fire. The tale also tells that she would anoint him with ambrosia during the day. My guess would be to soothe the babe and hide the effects of what she had done.

Peleus discovered what she was about and was notably angry. She tossed the child down and left both him and Peleus rejoining her fellow Nereids. Peleus took the child to be reared by the Centaur Chiron, who was a famous mentor and teacher of many heroes. On Mount Pelion, Achilles was fed meat from lions and wild boars, and the marrow of bears, to give him courage. A diet of honey-comb and fawn's marrow made him a swift runner. These things were also part of a traditional gladiator's diet for much the same reasons.


	28. Illumination

Chapter 29 Illumination

The sun was rapidly sinking toward the horizon and the party halted to set up camp for the night. They had traveled far up the Via Claudio Augusta. In fact they would likely reach the Statio Maiensis Bridge midmorning. General Nero Claudius Drusus, father to both Germanous and Claudius, had established the guard house at the mouth of the Reschen Pass almost 26 years ago. Now, according to the cheese merchant they had rescued, something of a town had developed around it. Those living in the area had taken to calling it Mairania (Modern Meran/Maia). And, if nothing else it offered an opportunity to re-supply for the next leg of the journey.

A few more miles travel would have brought them to the settlement but the way was rough the well paved roads of the empire far behind them. But the sun was rapidly sinking toward the frosted mountain peeks and the narrow paths up the mountains would be next to impossible to navigate in darkness. Even by day the way was treacherous skirting patches of loose scree or blocked by deadfall that had to be cleared before they could proceed. One miss-step could prove disastrous and no one wanted to risk the horses. They had been lucky thus far the weather had held likely would at least for the time being. Treize's golden eagle was settling in the fork of a nearby tree already dozing, a clear indicator that it shouldn't be much of a hardship to sleep under the stars. Though, for some_ that_ was an issue all its own.

The Dragon was scowling, arms crossed, mouth firm, obsidian eyes zeroed in his target--Zechs. "You aren't sleeping." WuFei declared.

The big blonde had just finished hammering in the iron pegs securing the guy ropes of the leather Cantebernium (communal tent) they brought along as a shelter. It was identical to the one he had shared with seven others during his stint with the Roman Legion…though this one smelled a far sight better. Especially since they only used it when there wasn't a roadhouse nearby. Zechs looked at the wooden mallet in his hand then back to WuFei before tossing the tool aside to run his fingers through sweat slicked bangs. "Not for lack of trying." He replied to the Asian seeming non sequitur.

"You haven't slept for more than a few hours in three days." WuFei clarified.

It truth it was almost twice that but Zechs wasn't about to correct the boy, "I will feel better once we get where we are going." Zechs sighed.

"At the villa you expressed a desire in learning to meditate. Are you still interested?"

Zechs blinked barely recalling he had said such a thing. It seemed so long ago. But WuFei' methods had calmed him before albeit briefly. "I suppose." He said cautiously.

"Fine then. Come here." WuFei directed.

"What now?" Zechs asked itching one of the many insect bites still afflicted the underside of his forearm and the tender crook of his elbow.

"Why not? Have you got something better to do?" the dark haired youth said dismissively.

Zechs shrugged and followed without further comment. The two settled on a large, flat, pleasantly sun-warmed, rock overlooking the Athesis river valley. WuFei had certainly chosen a picturesque spot. The whole area looked to have been scooped out by the hands of a playful god and the golden light of the diminishing sun was tracing the tree clad hills, and planes they had traversed earlier in the day.

WuFei sat with his back to the marvelous vista, knees folded in on themselves, hands resting loosely in his lap. His eyes were closed and his voice took on the cultured tones of a storyteller when he explained "More than a hundred years ago the wisest of masters, Huangdi wrote, 'Heaven abides so that we have virtue. Earth abides so that we have breath. When virtue flows and breathes in us that which my people call Qi is blended there is life."

Quatre, Trowa and even Heero drifted closer, settling themselves on the ground to listen. Duo and Treize had been collecting firewood but joined the rest as soon as their task was complete.

"'Qi' is combination of air and fire that penetrates the tissues and makes them live. Breathe in the essence of life. Breathe deep and let it fill you and soothe you spirit." Zechs tried to do as WuFei directed and heard the deep intake of mirroring breaths. It felt good to know others were likewise engaged in the exercise. He smiled.

"Breathe Out" WuFei intoned "Touch the Root of Heaven, One's heart opens; The Dragon slips into the water.

Breath In -Stands on the Root of Earth, One's heart is still and deep; The Tiger's claw cannot be moved."

"As you go on breathing in this frame of mind, with these associations, alternate between movement and stillness, it is important that the focus of your mind does not shift. Let the true breath come and go, a subtle continuum on the brink of existence. All right now as you breathe, clear your mind, let your grasp slip and relax."

"Um, Fei." Duo whispered.

WuFei's sigh was eloquent.

"I'm not trying to be a pain honest. I was just thinking." The urchin explained.

"You aren't supposed to be thinking Maxwell that is he whole point of 'emptying your mind."

"Well you see, that is just it."

"What is 'it' Duo."

"I don't think emptying your mind is such a good idea. I'm all for breathing. Breathing is good. only bad stuff happens if you try to stop for any length of time. Your face gets red get and you feel all woozy-like and then fall over. It isn't terribly fun at all. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, I like hearing about the dragons and tigers and all. But emptiness…I'm not such a fan."

"What ARE you saying?" WuFei snorted, "The culmination of the eightfold path to enlightenment is the perfection of absolute nothingness".

Duo shook his head, "I don't know who told you that but man, death isn't even perfect nothingness. I'm dreadful sorry but you aren't going to attain it through breathing. And I can't see as you'd want to."

WuFei's eyes narrowed and he growled low and menacing.

"Duo held up his hands in surrender. "Hay, I'm just saying why not meditate on *something* rather than nothing. Like Justice, duty, honor, love, nature or something. Fill your mind with awareness rather than empty it. What you're saying seems like trying to dig a well without proper supports to brace it. The water seeps in before you are ready and undermines the walls. First it muddies the water and then, before you know it, the sides collapse and –pfft- no more hole and a lot of hard, not to mention thirsty, work to make it right again."

WuFei looked like he was about to snap 'because that is just not how it is done." But he caught himself just as the "Buh-" sound slipped his lips and said, "That is actually rather profound. How did _you_ come up with something like _that_?"

"You don't have to sound so surprised." Duo sounded a bit hurt. "These purple eyes o' mine see things others don't. Like lies. You've never seen a lie, to most people never do. To them its like wind. They can hear people lie and see the results of that lie. But I see the lies themselves. They are ugly critters with scaly skin and bulgy eyes. They have huge tusks and long purple tongues that hang out of their lipless mouths. They have knobby limbs and six fingers and toes instead o' ten. They walk upright but hunched over. They are all blistered and disgusting like they have been burned. I hate them.

"I've never seen one crawl out of someone's mouth," the urchin amended, "that would be disgusting, But when people lie they come crowding around climbing on top of one another rubbing their hands together gleefully looking for ways to exploit the situation. And that is just the lies. They are small and mostly too stupid to hide themselves from me. But I know there are lots of other things out there; More powerful things that I _can't_ see unless they _want_ me too. Things like the shadow that trails Heero sometimes, or the ones the beasties that faught eachother when Tro was ill. Things like those will take quick advantage of an unguarded mind and there is no telling what they'd do if you let them."

"The shamans of my homeland attest to the existence of such creatures of the under realms." WuFei shuddered moving his hands in what was likely some type of warding gesture. "Since the beginning of time there have been men and women with ability to see them, and others able to influence them, for good or ill. But I have never thought to meet such a one. Do you see them always?"

"Naw, that 'ud prolly drive me round the bend. I get a shivery sort of feeling when they start to gather but I have to _look_ for them. I don't always, I know they are there. But they aren't as aware of me, least they don't know I can see them unless I try to. Still, sometimes when I do _look_, I find something _looking _back. And that is rather unnerving; and like I said, the powerful ones can hide and when I can't _see _them looking but _know _they are, that is worse."

That declaration, delivered in a tired nonchalance one might day "I'm tired" after a long day of work was nearly enough to put poor dragon into a fit of apoplexy. The cat like grace that brought him to his feet was surprising. He rummaged in his bags and came up with a small packet of rolled parchment. Flash powder. Zechs recognized since he had helped the youth mix the ingredients in preparation for the dinner festivities. After a hasty chant in his native tongue WuFei turned to the four winds loosing a small bit of the flash powder in effort to frighten anything from the unseen realm that might be lurking. He walked the entire perimeter of the camp reciting his incantation before making his way back to the others. Relief stretched across his features.

He didn't hear Heero's quiet question "Does that actually work?"

Neither did he chance to overhear Duo's less than reassuring reply. "How much of that bang-powder do you think he's has?"

But Quatre silenced both with a cold glare. "Don't" he cautioned "Leave it alone. It makes him feel better. That is enough."

"So you expect _this_ to help me sleep _better_?" Zechs asked incredulously.

"Actually, I expect _this_ to help you sleep better." Treize's unexpected voice made his second jump startled, but at least the man had had the decency to make his presence known before dropping the last flask of rose wine into Zechs lap. "Just don't make a habit of it." he cautioned.

Chapter 29 notes:

The Via Claudia Augusta was an ancient Roman road, which linked the valley of the Po River with Rhaetia (modern Austria) across the Alps.' After two thousand years of history, Via Claudia Augusta, the ancient Roman road that led from the Po River lowlands and the Adriatic Sea all the way to Bavaria and the Danube, is enjoying a renaissance. I found many accounts of cyclists who make the journey. I figure the trip by horseback would have been a similar experience to going by bike (thought they invariably are traveling down hill and out boys are going up) ) Still have taken some experiences from these accounts.

Historically speaking the only evidence regarding the Via Claudia Augusta is held in two military milestones. One of them was found in Rabland near Meran and the other in Cesiomaggiore in the province of Belluno. The stated beginning is Ostiglia in the Province of Mantua. (on the banks of the Mincio is a river in the Lombardy region of northern Italy. Called the Sarca before entering Lake Garda, it flows from there about 65 km past Mantua into the Po River....

Claudia Augusta was directed: from Tridentum (Trent) where out lads picked it up, before following the river Etsch/Adige to cross the Pons Drusi (bridge) near Bauzanum (modern Bozen), The terrain is mountainous, especially in the north, where the Alps are crossed by the Brenner Pass, and in the east, where the lower ranges of the Dolomite Alps add to the scenic beauty of the region.

Mairania has been inhabited since the 3rd millennium BC, as shown by the presence of menhirs (a large upright standing stones) and other findings. The story of the city proper began in 15 BC when the Romans occupied the Adige rivier Valley, founding a road station there (statio Maiensis).The landscape there is as described, Of clear glacial origin, it ranges from the mountains, with large meadows and woods of the Brentonico plateau. Today this area is known for its wine. The alpine of the Lessini range and the cultivated terracing of the Gresta Valley to end with the vast plain at the bottom of the valley flanked by gentle hills cloaked with a tight weave of vineyards.

From here our earnest travelers continue following the Claudia Agusta to the Reschen Pass. This is an Alpine pass (1504 m) located at the Italian-Austrian border, close to the border with Switzerland. Before the Roman era, a path linked the valley of the Adige river valley (Athesis in latin) with the Inn River valley into Retaia. Continuing onward the boys plan to travel the Reschen Pass to Landeck via the Fern then travel by barge down the river Lech, to Landsberg and Augsburg, where Germanous should be waiting.

A non sequitur Literally, the expression is Latin for "it does not follow." a non sequitur can denote an abrupt, illogical, unexpected or absurd turn of plot or dialogue not normally associated with or appropriate to that preceding it. It is a type of logical fallacy. As a literary devise it opposes formal logic. It is a comment which can be comical at times, due to its apparent lack of meaning relative to what it follows.

Information on meditation and interference from the unseen realms comes from various websites and the Qi Journal of Traditional Eastern Health and Fitness, volume 18 Spring 2008. Specific articles include, "Qigong basics for everyone" and "Introduction to Daoist Mysticism" Note, I am not a practitioner nor convert to such theories but find them fascinating none the less.


	29. Watershed

Chapter 30 Watershed

The group had woken early, set out first thing, wanting to have a fresh cooked meal in the town. the little mountain village was picturesque, with cows grazing in tall grass strewn with wildflowers. The public house in Meirin was easy to locate, and even if one was not keen enough to smell the sweet tang of roasting meat, a sign hung outside depicting a steaming bowl of something and what looked to be fresh pastries. The building was of stone construction mirroring something of the southern style but the roof was thatch rather than tile. Treize pointed it out that this was fair warning that local cuisine would likewise be intriguing mix of familiar dishes, locally grown produce and sundry specialties from other side of the mountains.

When the dark haired maid greeted them and ushered them into the public house the travelers were immediately faced with the fact that northerners did not use dining couches. Instead they were expected to sit upright on narrow benches before a long narrow trestle table that had been covered in bright linen_._ Zechs was quite comfortable adopting again the customs of his childhood and slaves frequently dined sitting cross-legged on the floor and only rarely were provided pillows on which to recline in proper fashion so this wasn't so very different.

Treize on the other hand wasn't so lucky. Even as a soldier, where there weren't the normal facilities for civilized dining, the noble former Tribuni had probably eaten standing with his men or leaning against his bedroll by the fire. To his mind, bending oneself in-half to eat couldn't be particularly good for digestion; and getting crumbs on the hem of one's tunic was an indignity in itself. It was clear their master wasn't particularly pleased with the practice but did not complain out-right, that would have been ungentlemanly, Still Quatre noted the way those forked brows creased in a frown more than once as they ate.

Duo had devoured at least four strudels. The others had to be quick if they wanted the opportunity to sample them. Trowa had two himself and shared one of the sticky pastries with Quatre. Heero was content with the hearty rye bread and even more so once WuFei slathered several slices in honey butter for him. WuFei himself preferred the candied fruit and nuts. The little blonde even noticed him perpetuating a bit of sleight-of-hand, worthy of a certain braided menace, to secret some of the sweets in his belt pouch for later. The main course, which they were meant to share, was a large platter of something called 'speck,' that is to say smoked ham, thinly sliced and spiced, a bit like prosciutto, but served with dumplings and a sort of aromatic cabbage dish. (Sourcrout)

Zechs ate the smelly strings with gusto explaining the locals made it by placing salt between layers of finely shredded cabbage and then placing it in a wooden press to bruise the leaves and squeeze out the juice. Afterward it was sealed in a wine cask to ferment. Quatre had tried a bit but didn't find it to his likening. Perhaps if he had grown up eating it, as his cousin had, he would feel differently. But as it was, he preferred his Kalam leaves (Farsi for 'cabbage') the way that Auda, Prince Mithridates chief cook prepared them. Which is to say, well stuffed with rice, lamb and chickpeas. It was a poignant reminder that, despite the sandy hue of his hair, it was unlikely Quatre would ever truly see the northlands as _home_.

---------------------

Since leaving Mariana the seven riders had been plagued by an unnervingly persistent warm wind especially where the pass narrowed. It rattled their clothing and caused Duo's prodigious plat to snake out full length behind him whipping and thrashing about as if it had a mind of its own. Quatre had even noted Trowa's natural veil swept back to reveal both shining eyes. In defense of the elements, Zechs twisted his corn silk mane into a tight tail and slipped it inside the neck of his tunic. But it seemed, aside from minor irritations the others seemed to pay little heed to the ever increasing force of the wind.

Quatre however, knew not to underestimate such things. His earliest memories were of a bearded man with bushy eyebrows and dark hair, strangely styled in points to mimic the horns of a bullock. The bear-like man had held him close as they huddled together beneath a flimsy tarp as a sandstorm threatened to rip them apart. He had felt so small in those massive arms but the storm was stronger still. The sand bit into exposed flesh, making it ruddy and raw.

Now, as the party made their way through the narrow mountain passes they faced a headwind every bit as ferocious as those Quatre recalled in his dreams of the desert. He was grateful there weren't vast amounts of loose sand to drift and irritate the eyes but instinct had him rummaging through his saddle back to retrieve his hooded cloak to shield against the wind none the less. The horses didn't like the wind much either. They shied and lay their ears against their heads in defiance of the warm wind but pressed onward obediently.

There wasn't much talking. Quatre sent a thin tendril of _awareness _toward the others. Treize had been rather reserved, lost in his thoughts. WuFei was practically brimming with longing for _his_ mountain. His sense of Trowa was largely a peaceful one, a veritable calm after the raging storm of emotion, but he was physically exhausted. Even Duo had tamed his usually incessant chatter. His tone turned to cajoling whispers as he caressed his mounts neck. "Up…up, my dark one, farther. Come on buddy, I know the trail is steep but you can do it. See Heero-boys white Wing, he's not afraid to fly off like the Pegasi. You can do it. No worries."

The fear and uncertainty Quatre felt bleeding into the air was clearly coming from the rider and not his mount. Duo had never been this high up before and there was a sheer drop barely a hands width from the right edge of the trail. None of them, with the exception of Zechs and WuFei of course, had ever imagined mountains _could_ get this high. And the path just kept right on going. The sun drifted across the sky and Quatre could half imagine it getting caught on the one of jagged peeks around them -- the intensely warm wind only added to that impression.

Then, something happened. Treize's eagle heralded the change first; batting its wings against its master's chest in effort to get free. When Treize loosed it, the bird took immediately to the trees, this concerned their master all the more. Whistling sharply he summoned the wolves, their lupine scouts who had been ghosting amongst the crags.

"_CubileCito! Invenio et Specus!"_ Treize commanded and immediately the wolves' Ears perked up. Then turning to his human pack he commanded "Dismount and follow, keep the horses secure, we are going to ground." (Den Quickly, Find a cave)

Treize had Epion by the bridle and was reaching for one of the packhorses when the air pressure suddenly dropped. Everyone's ears popped. The horses whinnied and the animal Treize was reaching for reared, pulling its lead from the man's fingers before bolting past him further along the trail.

"Nataku and I can catch him." WuFei offered since he was the only one still mounted, but Zechs shook his head.

"No time," he cautioned practically pulling the younger boy from the saddle. "Virgo was too young for this trip, too flighty. We still have Libra and Peace-million." Zechs motioned the heavy laden sorrel that shouldered her way beside his own Tallgeese, and Trowa had quickly moved to soothe and the cream colored mare they had brought as a remount. "I know where we can get more supplies to replace what is lost but not now." Zechs confirmed, "Move!"

The travelers had barely left the trail when their ears popped again. It wasn't so drastic this time but disconcerting none the less. Then the heavens let loose a torrential down pour. By the time the wolves led them to the opening to a small cave everyone was a sodden mess. The remaining horses were divested of their saddles and packs then hobbled against a rock face with a sheltering overhang protected to some degree by a small stand of trees.

The next step was to bring remaining supplies into the cave and ascertain what had been lost along with Virgo. Quatre was shivering uncontrollably and his teeth chattered. Heero had foreseen that probability and brought in two large armloads of fire-wood dropping them to one side of the opening. "Its very wet," he apologized seeing now the unlikely hood it would light.

"Here." Trowa divested the little blonde of his dripping cape and covered the boy's slim shoulders with the slightly damp one that had been in his saddle bag.

"Y-you n-nneed it." Quatre tried to refuse.

"You are wetter than I am." The beast lord observed tonelessly

"Am n-not." The blonde shook his head.

"Its true," the normally taciturn youth announced with a mild twist of his lips as he ran long fingers through his dripping curtain of hair "I'm thin, I slip between the drops," He announced.

Quatre chuckled, then laughed outright, tugging Trowa's cloak tight around him. He didn't feel quite so cold anymore.

Zechs placed a ring of stones around the wood Heero had gathered and tried unsuccessfully to get the fire started, but his flint and tinder were wet. Duo tried his hand at it as well, furiously rubbing sticks together. He was sweating by the time he gave up but the fire remained unlit. WuFei shooed both away and knelt before the pile…which had grown in size since Heero had made several more trips into the raging storm before finally settling down between the two panting wolves. Their wet fur smelled rather rank, especially considering the confined space, but Heero didn't seem to mind scratching one behind the ear.

The obsidian-eyed temple slave chose a thin stick from a leather pouch around his neck. He used it to methodically inscribe a symbol on the floor of the cave it was something like an upside-down 'y' with a short curvy branch on each side of the tail. (Chinese calligraphy for 'fire') Next WuFei drizzled cooking-oil over the wood. Lastly he adhered a bit of his precious flash-powder on the sticky places. He hunched over and held his hand in such a way that none might see what he was doing but Quatre was drawn by the conflicted feelings the former temple slave emitted and was not about to be distracted from learning what caused them.

WuFei closed his eyes and breathed out a word in his native tongue, "Huo!" he said, and flame sprang from the tiny stick then leapt into the damp wood biting into it with a vengeance. There was much sputtering and hissing and smoke poured from the wood but the temperature in their little cave slowly began to rise.

Everyone was much relieved. Duo even cheered, though Quatre doubted any of the others had witnessed their companion's small use of magic. WuFei knew of Quatre's abilities and Duo had revealed his own but it seemed the dark eyed foreigner was reluctant to do the same. Whenever Duo had claimed WuFei possessed magic in regards to master Treize's near miraculous healing, the other had been quick to deny it. However an affinity with Fire wasn't so easy to explain away. WuFei had done so with his use of the flash powder. But even then Quatre had wondered about the nature of the spark that ignited it.

The blonde wasn't about to say anything to the others about it of course. Having hidden his uncanny talents for much of his lifetime he understood his companion's reluctance. Though he wondered if perhaps WuFei feared how would the others would react. It was no secret the eastern youth is very proud. Perhaps he saw using magic as some sort of weakness, a crutch. Or perhaps he feared the uncanny ability, not all that surprising considering how WuFei reacted to Duo's revelation almost exactly 24 hours previous.

Trowa cleared his throat. And Quatre realized that from his position, crouching catlike in the mouth of the cave he might have witnessed what WuFei had done as well. Trowa had been watching the rain fall for some time, but as the sky darkened into dusk his attention had turned inward.

'Don't say anything about it.' Quatre willed. And the green-eyed youth seemingly understood.

Chapter 30 notes

Prosciutto does indeed trace its history back to ancient Rome. 'Perexsuctus' was the Latin for "aged pig's thighs that had been dried in the sun." In the past, just as it is today Germanic cuisine is VERY different from Arabic. The food Quatre prefers like stuffed cabbage leaves has its roots in tent cookery from the Bedouin tribes. Nomadic tribes could use only transportable foods such as rice and dates, or their nomadic stock like sheep and camels in their recipes. As the caravans journeyed throughout the Middle East, new seasonings and vegetables were discovered and added to the existing repertoire. Each new discovery was incorporated into the diet in quantities palatable to a particular tribe - a fact that many cooks believe is responsible for the anomalies found in some Arabic dishes today.

The weather system described is a well documented phenomenon in the area though one would expect it further south when the boys were leaving Trento. I shifted the weather system a bit to fit the plot. The persistent warm wind It is caused by convection. The sun heats up the mountain ranges to the North of the Alps causing the air from the Po valley to be sucked into the area around Garda lake. This already warm air is further heated creating a positive feedback loop. The warm wind produced is known as the 'Ora' It usually begins around 11:00 and 1:00 and can reach speeds of 11-21 knots (12-17 mph) as it accelerates thru the narrowing valley.

This cycle is usually broken around 6:00 PM when everything starts to cool down at sunset and sometimes results in. violent thunder storms. During the night the rocky mountain ranges cool off and the warm air retreats to the Po valley in the south. A substantial difference in temperature between the cold mountains and the warm valley develops which results in a wind known as the Peler or Vento which flows southward through Garda valley. The Peler can reach speeds of 22-33 knots (24-31 mph). The wind looses in strength as the sun heats up the mountain peaks in the morning. At around 9 AM the Peler is usually gone and you'll have to wait until noon before the Ora kicks in again. Kite boarding contests are held on the lake in June and July (which is about when our story is taking place) taking advantage of the persistent winds.

If Quatre was incorrect about WuFei's use of magic he may have been using a predecessor of the match. The original inventor is thought to have been Chinese. During the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms period a book called the "Records of the Unworldly and the Strange" written by Tao Gu stated: "If there occurs an emergency at night it may take some time to make a light to light a lamp. But an ingenious man devised the system of impregnating little sticks of pinewood with sulfur and storing them ready for use. At the slightest touch of fire they burst into flame. One gets a little flame like an ear of corn. This marvelous thing was formerly called a "light-bringing slave", but afterwards when it became an article of commerce its name was changed to 'fire inch-stick' Small sticks of pinewood impregnated with sulfur, (called sulphurata) were apparently mentioned by Martial in ancient Rome. How did this knowledge come to be in Rome during the 1st century AD you wonder? Dragons make fire, yes they do.


	30. Revelation

Chapter 31 Revelation

The Rain was assaulting the mountain heights with great fury, and didn't appear that it would be letting up anytime soon. Zechs could have kicked himself for not being more sensible about divvying the supplies more evenly between the three riderless mounts. He had been more concerned about Libra and Peace-million fighting, as they sometimes were wont to do, and hadn't considered Virgo's youthful rebellion. So they had plenty of cooking gear, tools, tent polls, pegs, guy-ropes and the like, but the heavy furs, tent and the bulk of their food supplies had been lost in one fell swoop.

"It is going to be dark soon. We are going to need more firewood." Heero's toneless voice broke into his thoughts. "I saw a pile of branches, probably swept off of a higher place on the range by a rockslide. It is not far."

"I'll go with." Duo volunteered and hastily began stripping down to his small clothes.

"W-what are you doing?" The question stuck in the gladiator's throat.

"Look out there and tell me what you see." The braided boy pointed to the cave mouth. The rain was fairly sheeting now and visibility was limited next to nothing.

"Rain, rain and let me see, more rain," WuFei stated the obvious with a wry grin seeing how Heero just stood there looking perplexed.

Duo grinned. "Exactly right Fei fei -- Gold star for you." Then went on to explain, "If I leave my tunic here by the fire where it is warm and dry and make a run for that wood stockpile then jog back slipping into warm togs will feel SOOO good. Trust me on this. It is an urchin trick…only worry is in the city one o your mates might steal your things if you take too long. But that isn't an issue.

"Um Duo--" Zechs began to warn the boy that once the sun goes down the temperature drops rapidly in the mountains. But before he got more than those two words out Heero had followed suit stripping down to his fighting leathers and ran into the storm with Duo chasing after, laughing.

"That wasn't terribly smart." WuFei observed using one of the longer sticks to push a pot out of the cave to collect some rainwater, without having to get drenched himself. When it was sufficiently full he retrieved it in the same fashion.

Treize caught on to what the eastern youth was about immediately rifling through the packs. A measure of spelt (grain), salted beef, mushrooms, carrot, onion and the last bit of wine and cheese the merchant gave us, Should make a fine stew." He reflected adding the ingredients and setting the pot to simmer. It wasn't long before the aroma was wafting through the small cave.

"Smells delicious," Quatre complimented as he retrieved the ladle and bowls in preparation to serve the others as soon as Duo and Heero had returned from their 'mission.'

"They are going to need it." Trowa observed quietly. The lanky youth tucked himself into a small crevice near the mouth of the cave seemingly captivated by the fury of the storm. "Tinia and Aplu rage at one another while Summamus weeps. This is a cold storm, you see?" he pointed to the ice crystals bouncing about mingling with the rain.

"The Tusci storm gods." Zechs guessed and the green-eyed boy nodded in confirmation. "My people have long believed these mountains are home to storm giants or jotuns. A storm such as this would be the result of the god Thor battling with them." He would have said more but was interrupted when Heero and Duo come bolting back with as much wood as they could carry.

"Baka!" Heero cursed shaking the water from his wild hair and dumping his load of wood into a pile by the entrance. Then he could chafe the circulation back into his arms.

"Brisk isn't it!" Duo mirrored his companion's gesture, still grinning like a lunatic as he wrung the water out of his braid and pulled his fire warmed tunic over his head.

"Here you go." Quatre gave the boys a warm smile and held out a steaming bowl. "WuFei and Treize made it." he explained.

Heero nodded gratefully taking the offering and passing it to the braided one "You are going to get sick!" Heero scowled shrugging his tunic on before taking the second serving of stew for himself.

"I won't get sick." Duo said defiantly slurped from his bowl. "I'm a street boy I've seen more than my fair share of bad weather. And not even Apollo's great plague could keep me down." The braided boy assured "I've seen death and he didn't take me. YOU might get sick though."

"I don't get sick. And as best I can tell, your patron shows no interest in me unless it is as instrument to take others. Does your gift show you different?" Heero wondered aloud.

"No." Duo shook his head, settling down before the fire and stretching out his legs. "There is no mistaking death. I am sure he wasn't the one I caught trailing you."

"So you _have_ seen death…in person so to speak?" WuFei asked quietly tossing a few small twigs into the fire.

"Oh yes." Duo smiled. "There are all sorts of things that move unseen, good ones, bad ones, those that are neither or both. The shadow creature drawn to Heero is all muscle and instinct, almost animalistic. Death is an intelligent being as old as creation itself and elegant…very elegant. He's nothing like any of the statues of Hades in the temple. In fact no mortals could craft anything that beautiful and I only caught a glimpse of him.

"He didn't hide the way lesser spirits do. But, for my sake, he was very careful to shield himself with his wings. And what wings." Duo flushed at the memory, "There were six of them and they had feathers like flame without the heat. I can't describe them properly, there aren't words for that. All I can say is they were the most beautiful things I've ever imagined. Two arched forward to cover his face and two swept back to cover his feet. When he knelt to help Solo's spirit from his body he cradled it, those wings drew him close in the most protective and gentle gesture I've ever seen. Then he turned unfolded the last set of most brilliant of wings and flew away.

"Part of me wishes I had been able to see more of him though it was probably good I didn't. There is danger to that beauty. I suspect if he hadn't been mindful of me I would have been so enthralled I would have begged like a lost puppy when he took my Solo away. My heart ached for a long time after they vanished. I knew I would miss Solo something awful and I still do sometimes…But I know he is safe and cared for. I've spent a lot of time begging in the temples and I've seen many things that others can't…but there wasn't a god among them; just death, that's why I took him as my patron."

"What did my shadow look like?" Heero asked drinking the last of the stew from his bowl. Quatre had passed around the bowls to the others and there was still enough to offer the intense gladiator a second helping. Heero waved the blonde off and continued interrogating the urchin. "Do you think it one of the bad ones?" He frowned, "You first noticed it when I took on the champion of Veronia. Did it seem angry Zechs had me spare him? When we fought the bandits was it looking to turn my hand against the child to balance the scales?" intense cobalt eyes scanned the darkness.

"Your shadow doesn't act like the evil ones. For the most part it is what I said it was, a shadow, like a cape fluttering behind you, or a suggestion wings. It is most solid when you fight. Then I get the hint of Smokey coils and the sparkle of sunlight on scales. It isn't like WuFei's dragon though. More like a fiery serpent or hydra. Though I didn't think they had wings and yours has at least four." Duo looked thoughtful "There _were_ things a bit larger than lies but just as nasty trying to force your hand in battle but from what I could gather your shadow was working to protect you."

"Duo, I don't think what you saw was death." Quatre frowned.

"I already said that Q. there is no way Heero's shadow was death. It was just some sort of protector spirit."

"No, what you described before, the luminous spirit with the six wings. I don't think that was death."

"Of course it was Q-boy. Who else would take my Solo away after Apollo's plague made it too hard for him to live anymore?"

"Well," The little blonde looked nervous. "Like you say, the spirit you saw doesn't look like any statue I've ever seen of the death god…But I have seen drawings of seraphim and you described them perfectly."

"Whatcha'mean?" Duo looked confused.

"Seraphim are servants of the nameless god, and representatives of his power and glory. Even the one you describe as following Heero is a known form of the Saraph who heals." Quatre explained more confidant now.

Duo was taken aback. "There is an Alter to the unknown god in the Pantheon in Rome. We slept behind it sometimes. Solo liked it because it was peaceful, safe." his brow creased. "There aren't any priests to tend it and even the unseen seem to leave it alone. I didn't know there were really people who worshipped the anonymous god. The few that leave sacrifices there did it as a kind of catch all for any god they might have forgotten." Duo stared guiltily into the fire. "Those offerings kept our gang from going hungry more than once. Do you think the no-name god would be angry at us? His messenger…if that is really what took Solo away, didn't seem angry. But I can't feel what they feel, and they don't speak in anyway I can understand so I can't be sure." He shrugged.

Quatre touched Duo's arm comfortingly. "From what I have been taught, the nameless one is a generous god who brings down the proud and gives to the humble. Your band seemed pretty humble to me, so I doubt he would mind that you helped yourselves. In any case the Alter was probably set up by Romans who were ignorant of his ways and those of the Kalimi who worship him. They don't make Idols and I doubt they would be particularly comfortable worshiping in a place full of them."

Trowa lay sprawled out between the cave entrance and the fire, Quatre's cape lay rolled like a pillow under the arm that supported his chin. He canted his head to the side, his forelock slipping to reveal both inquisitive green eyes, "How can a god be nameless?" he asked.

"The Kalimi call him Yhwy meaning 'the God who is'. They feel He needs no other name because they believe there is only one true God." Quatre explained eyes shining.

WuFei pursed his lips together in thought before speaking. "There are some among my people who also speak of a nameless god; 'Wu ming lun' which translates 'the absolute' it is said he is an immortal force that encompasses and transcends all others. I wonder if this…Yahweh--" He carefully enunciated the unfamiliar title "--could be the same. How did you learn of such things Quatre?"

"When I was attached to Prince Vonones, I often kept his son company during his lessons. "The little blonde explained. "Prince Von had little patience for such things and Mithri learned better when we studied together. The royal line of Partha traces their heritage back to the great Persian Kings and Ahmed, the royal tutor, felt it was important that he know all about the kings who have come before him as well as the people he would one day rule… even if he'd never been to his homeland. There are manyKalimi in Partha and one cannot learn of them without also learning of their god. Though he is nameless they also call him Adonai meaning 'lord and father' or refer to him by describing his attributes; Elohim is 'sovereign god' or El-Elyon meaning "Most High over the earth." But those are titles not names. Ahmed himself used the Persian word for god 'Allah' during lessons.

"Who are the Kalimi?" this came from Heero who was once again curled up with the wolves, sharing their body heat.

Quatra smiled at the tussle-headed youth. It seemed spending time alone with Duo seemed to be improving Heero's communication skills. "The Kalimi came to Persia almost six hundred years ago." the blonde explained "Bakhat Nasar, the King of Babylon conquered their homeland and sent them into exile. Their temples and holy places were destroyed and many followers of the one god were thrown to lions or even burned alive; though sometimes times that that didn't even stop them. Fifty years later the Kings of Persia conquered Babylon and ushered in a new benevolent rule for the conquered lands. King's Cyrus, Darius, and Artaxerxes passed laws permitting displaced peoples return to their homelands. 40 thousand Kalimi chose to do so returning to their homeland and rebuilding the temples that had been desecrated. But many others chose to remain in Persia since the new laws also ensured they could worship as they saw fit.

Prince Von never thought much of the Kalimi and he grumbled and growled when ever Ahmed spoke of them. To his mind they were strange and insular. After living in the Emperor's palace for so many years Von is very Roman. And I suppose that is where the real problems lay, When He left me to return home and take up his fathers crown the people judged him too out-of-touch with the their needs to rule effectively. They gained the support of Izates, the King of Adiabene, a client-state of Partha. Von never really got on with Izates since both he and his queen converted to the Kalimi faith. They feared Von would overturn the old laws and threw their support behind the desert lord Artabanus, in his bid for the throne." Quatre sighed, "Last I heard Von and Mithri were forced to take refuge in Persia."

"What is so compelling about this one god that royals, near deities in their own right, would abandon the gods of their ancestors to follow what I've always been told is essentially a slave religion?" That query came from Treize and Quatre was happy to take on the roll of story teller for his master. Pulling Trowa's cape tighter around his slim shoulders he leaned against the smooth wall of the cave he began.

"Ahmed said the one god, Allah, made a pact with the Kalimi, declaring that they are his people and he is their God. He led them out of slavery in Egypt. His glory went before them in the form of a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. The sea parted before them and they crossed on dry land then it closed behind them devouring pharaoh and his army; chariots, horses and all. Allah guided the people through the deserts, provided water from a stone and bread from the sky to sustain them. For forty years they traveled in the wilderness and in all that time their clothing and shoes did not wear out. Finally when the people learned to trust and rely on God, placing their faith in him alone he brought them home to a land of plenty. And so long as they remained faithful their enemies could not stand against them and they thrived."

"What about Babylon? You said they were defeated and exiled." WuFei asked. His tone was not quite so scathing instead Quatre felt it tinged with bitterness. The eastern youth knew what it felt like to face exile, to loose all connection with his homeland.

"They only got in trouble with Babylon because they broke the pact and started getting involved with other gods. But Allah never gave up on them, stretching out his hand offering reconciliation even to those who settled in Partha. There is a town on the coast called _Naīnuwa (Nineva)_. Allah was unhappy because his people there had stopped following him. So he chose a man named _Yunus to be _his ambassador. The problem was _Yunus _didn't want to go. His people were among those who had returned to their homeland and he believed, as many of them did in those days, that the ones who chose to stay behind were _Parsim _and not real _Kalimi_. Yunus tried to run away taking a ship to Tarsos (Tarsus) but Allah wanted his people to know he hadn't forgotten them. So he sent a storm after Yunus, a huge fish took him out of the stormy sea and spat him out right on the beach where god wanted him. His skin was white and his hair was white, even though he was a relatively young man. And when he said 'repent' people did. Because a god that can do all that isn't one you should deny.

Chapter 31 notes

In GW, Duo had a catholic background and Quatre is believed to be Muslim. Many believe Christ was born around 4 B.C. so he would have been about 16 years old and has yet to begin his ministry. And Mohammad will not be born for another 600 years. Both religions however have Hebrew roots and the Jewish religion was a well established minority at this point in history. This chapter is my reflection of Duo's "I've never seen God but I've seen the god of death" quote from the series as well as Quatre's repeated entreaties to Allah (Which was the Persian word for 'God' even before Mohammed) Since Quatre is of middle-eastern decent in the series I looked into the history of Iranian Jews as foundation of this chapter. In Iran, Jews and Jewish people in general are referred as Kalimi. Even today Iranian immigrants in Israel (nearly all of whom are Jewish) are referred to as Parsim from the Hebrew meaning "Persians".  
-------------------------

A seraph (pl. seraphim) is translated "burning ones" from the Hebrew verb 'Serap' meaning 'to burn'. They are considered one of a class of celestial beings mentioned in the Hebrew Bible (Tanakh or Old Testament), in Isaiah. Jewish imagery perceives them as having human form, and in that way they passed into the ranks of Christian angels. In the angelic hierarchy, seraphim represent the highest rank of angels. Isaiah (6:1–3) records the prophet's vision of the Seraphim:"... I saw the Lord sitting upon a throne, high and lifted up; and His train filled the Hekhal (sanctuary). Above Him stood the Seraphim; each had six wings: with two he covered his face, and with two he covered his feet, and with two he flew. In the vision the seraphim cry continually to each other, "Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts: the whole earth is full of His glory" (vi.3). The "foundations of the thresholds" of the Temple were moved by the sound of their voices.

There is also the possibility the word "Seraph" was derived from the Hebrew noun "saraph" referring to a fiery serpent". Outside of the initial reference to the Seraphim in the Book of Isaiah Chapter 6, there are several more occurrences of the word saraph. The Book of Numbers uses the word in reference to snakes that attacked the Israelites in the wilderness as a sign of God's judgment in consequence of the people's rebellion. But this punishment was tempered by grace, Chapter 21, verse 8, that reads "and the Lord said to Moses, make yourself a fiery serpent, and set it upon a pole, and it shall come to pass that every one that is bitten, who looks upon it, shall live" The Talmud, Rosh Hashanah 29a, states that it was not the copper serpent that healed the Israelites; but, it was their looking up and submitting themselves to God.

---------------------

The Jews trace their heritage in Iran to the Babylonian Exile of the 6th century BC Nebuchadnezzar (Bakhat Nasar, which means "winner of the fate", or literally, "fate winner".) exiled the Jews to Babylon in 597 BC The biblical books of Isaiah, Daniel, Ezra, Nehemiah, Chronicles, and Esther contain references to the life and experiences of Jews in Persia. 537 BC. After the Cyrus the Great overthrew the Babylonian king Nabonidus and replaced him as ruler, he improved the lives of the citizens of Babylonia, repatriated displaced peoples and restored temples and cult sanctuaries. Unlike the previous Assyrian and Babylonian rulers, Cyrus allowed the Jews to practice their religion. He also decreed they were free to return to their homeland and rebuild their temple if they wished.

Jewish sources contain no mention of the name "partha". However The Parthian Empire had shifting/overlapping boarders with Persia. It was based on a loosely configured system of vassal kings. The lack of rigidly centralized rule allowed tolerance and one account suggests a small number of Parthian vassal kings conversion to the Jewish faith,. Adiabene among them

Though I chose to use the Persian name 'Yunus' many people who are neither Jewish nor Christian may recognize the story of "Jonah and the whale" It takes place in Nineveh (Naī the persian) which was one of the capitol cities of Partha. During the First century BC the area around Ninevea area was part of the semi-independent nation of Adiabene. Through much of history it was it was a dependency of the Parthian Empire. As the story tells During this period the rulers Izates King of Adiabene, the son of Monobaz I and his wife Queen Helena were known convert to the Jewish faith. The queen moved for a time to Jerusalem. There she built palaces for herself and her sons, Izates bar Monobaz and Monobaz II at the northern part of the city of David, south of the Temple Mount. According to the Talmud, both Heleni and Monbaz donated large funds for the Temple of Jerusalem.

Such instances and others show not only the tolerance of Parthian kings, but are also a testament to the extent at which the Parthians saw themselves as the heir to the preceding empire of Cyrus the Great. So protective were the they of the minority over whom they ruled, that an old Jewish saying tells, "When you see a Parthian charger tied up to a tomb-stone in the Land of Israel, the hour of the Messiah will be near"

----------------


	31. Comes the Dawn

Chapter 32 Comes the Dawn

The rain had stopped but it was cold, very cold. Being alone, unprotected, on the mountain at night could freeze the marrow in ones bones. Zechs had made his crossing from the northlands nearly six years ago but he knew the hazards well and had thought to take precautions, stocking up on furs and northern clothing. Then **Virgo,** curse the rebel beast, had gone and run off with them and so the seven travelers had been forced to improvise. Thankfully the fire had raised the temperature in the cave a fair bit, but they still slept nestled together entwined like pups in a basket. Zechs had taken extreme care to extricate himself, without disturbing the others, but obsidian eyes opened the moment the comforting warmth was no longer at his back.

WuFei watched as the large blonde bent to place a few more branches on the fire before making his way to the cave entrance. The renewed flare illuminated Quatre's huddled form, catching in his fair hair as much as it did Zechs prodigious corn-silk cascade, making both appear as otherworldly. WuFei idly wondered if the two blonds were suddenly to appear in the streets of Chang'an, if the commoners would mistake them for emissaries of the immortals, or objects of worship in their own right. The absurdity of it made him smile.

Zechs glided past his sleeping cousin and in doing so found it necessary to step over Trowa's out flung arm and only barely avoided treading on Duo's braid. Heero seemingly sensed the movement, snatching at the braid protectively, muttering and tossing, fighting the sleep he so desperately needed. The blonde crouched down to smooth the gladiator's perpetually unruly hair. "_Solūtum Pācis_" (relax peace) he whispered. That was all the reassurance necessary to send the tired gladiator back into the enfolding arms of dream.

The wolves had been guarding the entrance to the cave but presently there was no sight of them. WuFei expected they were out hunting or meeting with their mountain kin. It was no surprise. They came, they went, they would return. Treize was part of their pack and it was because of him the rest of them had been included as well. When Duo had run off, WuFei had seen just how difficult it had been for Treize to offer them one of the urchin's tunics to provide a scent to track. There had been no denying the reluctance in the man's voice when commanded them to seek and take down. Zechs had doubted the pair would have mauled the braided one even if he had given them leave. But wolves know about pack hierarchy and if Treize indicated one of the pups needed to be put in their place, it was clear Bryn and Argent would not hesitate to do so tooth and claw. WuFei understood there was a certain justice in that.

The dark-eyed slave watched the blonde prince pull his hooded cloak tighter around his broad shoulders and venture out onto the pre-dawn light. The horses were stamping and tossing their heads to keep themselves warm, their breath visible in the crisp morning air. Zechs did his best to rub them dry and checked their hooves to ensure none had suffered harm during their hurried dash off-road to find shelter from the storm. Everything seemed in order and when Zechs turned back to the cave he was surprised to find WuFei leaning against the rocks by the cave mouth, arms crossed.

"You're awake." The blonde observed surprise in his voice.

After WuFei's unanticipated dunking in the baths back at the villa it was common knowledge that, of all the boys, he had the most difficult time waking to the new day. There was no use denying the fact; though, now that he thought on it, that wasn't something that had been troubling him as of late. "Mountains possess subtle magic. The air is freer, it doesn't seem as heavy this close to the clouds. Even water boils quicker, because the steam is eager to rise." WuFei explained, "In the low lands I feel the weight continuously pressing down on me, especially in the mornings. But not so here, it is more like home so I am more likely to wake refreshed."

Zechs frowned, I've never noticed but now that you mention it the air has always tasted different this high up."

"Those not born to the mountains get tired quicker. I've noticed Even Heero loses his breath more easily." WuFei seemed particularly pleased to announce the last. Then raised one ebony brow speculatively, "I've noticed you don't suffer from that though. Originally I'd assumed it was because your chest is unusually large, and your lungs with it. But too many small things you have said point to you as one mountain bred. Though I am puzzled; if these peeks are your natural home why is your sire is called the 'sea king?"

Zechs snorted in surprise, "Not even Treize thought to ask that. He simply assumes my father's people are sea faring folk, just as he assumes that because there are countless tribes scattered across the northland, constantly bickering with one another, we have no organized 'civilization.' The truth is not so straight forward. The Russ have always been migratory. We drift from this, the spine of the world to the great frozen sea. We are and have always been the peace-makers; my father is more than chieftain of our clan. He is the _Bretwalda_ and _Ard Rí_, the great arbitrator and high king of what the Romans call Germania. The torc of kingship passes along family lines but the position my father holds is bequeathed by the people.

It is his duty to settle disputes among the tribes of amber-land. All people, kings and commoner alike, hold his opinion in highest regard. Wars have been sparked and entire clans wiped out because he was elsewhere. Likewise blood feuds ended at his word. That is why our mission is so vitally important. Arminous has upset the balance gathering tribes to himself calling for war with Rome. If that happens countless people will die on both sides and the rivers of Germania will taste as the wine dark sea because of the weeping." Zechs shook his head sadly.

"You have not said why he is named the sea king. Does the title refer to the sea of humanity or the way your people drift as the tides? WuFei enquired.

"Nothing so colloquial I'm afraid." Zechs gave him a rye smile. "My Uncle Scade, Quatre's father was a druid, a dream spinner. My Father had a bit of the gift himself. When he was my age or perhaps a bit younger he was taken with a powerful vision. It left him in a fever for almost two weeks. My grandfather feared for his life. When my father woke he told the clan elders of two possible futures for our people. Both involve magnificent ships, with striped sails, dragon headed prows and shallow draft. In one future our ancestors use these great vessels to conquer the world through burning and blood shed. It is a dark savage world they create bred of violence. Along the other path those ships traverse to the utter ends of the earth and all the rivers in between bringing prosperity and trade to all mankind. That two-sided vision is what drove my father to accept the mantle of high king. He devotes himself to doing what ever it takes to guide the people and pursue the cause of peace; and that commitment is precisely what brought me to be here with Treize, rather than at my father's side, acting as war-chief of the Russ and master of the White Fang."

"I do wish I had had the opportunity to know my father…or even to speak to him at least once." WuFei hugged himself and shivered dark eyes downcast. "He was a proud warrior. That much I know. My mother would have had no use for him otherwise. She was very strong but even so she was a woman. She fought long and hard to keep me but the elders would not permit it. When they came to take me, she seemed broken. They told me I would forget her, that it would be better if I did. But I inherited every bit of her stubbornness and not a small amount of her pride. There is too much of her in me to ever forget. I wish my father had been able to see it. I wish he had been a part of both our lives. He should have been there to lend his strength when she exhausted her own. I wanted to be there for her if he would not but the elders would not even grant us that much. They feared her because it is not fitting for a woman to be so bold. But I'm not certain she could survive alone. In any case I shall never know."

--------------

There was nothing he could say to ease the pain in the young man's voice. Zechs knew that. He recalled the pain from the night his own mother had died, one of many casualties in the cause of peace. Even after all these years that night of smoke and fire was not one he felt comfortable discussing. Treize knew. He had been present for far too many nightmare rent nights not to know something of their cause. Still Zechs was awed by the strength WuFei exhibited in speaking with such candor. 'I lost my mother too. I know how it hurts.' He wanted to say but the words stuck in his throat. All he could do was reach over and squeezed the boy's shoulder comfortingly.

The WuFei leaned into his arm, a brief movement, borrowing warmth against the morning chill. "I imagine the others will be waking up soon." The young man sighed then that brief contact was gone.

"I expect you are right. We have nearly reached the far end of the pass. We will begin the descent soon. The road splits and we must split along with it. Quatre, Duo and I must travel a bit farther into the mountains to replace our supplies. You, Heero, Trowa, and Treize need to continue along the low road trace the Fern River to barge. It is not far you should make it by mid afternoon. Set up camp and wait for _Ġē Háseti_, (Norse meaning 'the boatman') My people have legends about trolls hiding under bridges and demanding payment to cross from travelers. I've always suspected 'Gee', as he prefers to be called, is at least part troll. His looks give him away. But either, he suffers from wanderlust, or just plane greed, and will not be tied to just one bridge. As Boatman he cunningly collects from travelers all up and down the waterway. There is no telling when he will arrive at Barge so you must get there early and flag him down to secure passage to the garrison at _Augusta Vindelicorum_ (Augsburg Bavaria)."

"That doesn't seem too difficult. I'll try to keep Treize and the others out of trouble." WuFei volunteered. "Just be sure you do the same."

"I appreciate the thought more than you know, my friend." Zechs released a tired sigh not intending to say more on the matter. "But I can't help but think that task is easier said than done." The words were past his lips before he had taken note of them; leaving WuFei to wonder if the blonde prince might have inherited the spark of prophetic foresight as his father had.

Still WuFei refused to acknowledge the sudden chill he felt run down his spine. He favored the prince with a rye grin, "Of course my task will be the easier of the two, since Maxwell will be going with you." he snorted and Zechs smiled.

Chapter 32 notes:

Anything above 914 meters above sea level is considered High altitude. Reschen Pass where our boys took shelter is at least 1,504 m above sea level. Tianzhu Peak, the main peek in the WuDang Mountains in WuFei's homeland, has an altitude of 1,612 m so being the observant chap he is he noticed some things.

The farther you are above sea level the more air pressure decreases. The air has less oxygen the higher you go and people not accustomed to it feel fatigued more easily there is generally lower humidity at high altitudes. Moisture quickly evaporates from everything; including people. It is easy to get dehydrated and hikers should rest often and bring plenty of fluids.

As WuFei noted water boils at a lower temperature than at sea level but foods take longer to cook. As elevation increases, the boiling point is reduced 2 degrees per 1,000 foot increase. Foods take longer to cook and uncovered food will dry out quickly. Not only will Flour dry faster at high altitudes it may absorb more liquid as well.

I found it interesting to learn that when baking breads and cakes at high altitudes the leavening gases in expand at a greater rate than they do closer to sea level. That is to say they rise faster but the result is dry rather than moist. Additionally frostings and candies become harder faster. When you think about it, these conditions make the strudel Duo and the others enjoyed several chapters ago a perfectly reasonable adaptation to the normal restrictions of high altitude cooking.

----------------------

Incase you didn't recognize the description The Vision Zechs father hopes to circumvent is the rise of Viking Power that will occur nearly 800 years after the events of our story. The causes of the 'Viking Age' (in England, c.793-1066) are disputed but include such factors as a worsening climate in Scandinavia making agriculture more difficult; poor prospects at home for younger sons who stood to inherit little; a religion (see below) promoting aggressive self-reliance; political consolidation in Denmark and, later, Norway which uprooted many earls and their followers, whose only skills were in warfare.

The technological breakthrough which made Viking raids possible was in shipbuilding; the typical Viking craft was a low, sleek, clinker-built vessel, designed with a prow at either end for rapid re-launching and fitted with a sail, but also capable of being rowed (or even carried short distances overland) by its crew of between 40 and 60 men. In small groups they were fast enough to evade detection, to make a sudden raid from a beach landing and put out to sea again before land forces could be mustered against them. The decisive Viking advantage was the ability to make a sea-crossing without hugging the coasts, so maximizing the element of surprise.

For many years historians painted the Vikings as blood thirsty murders appearing in the dark of night to pillage and burn. But there are a substantial number of modern historians who look to paint a different more benign picture of the Vikings, as traders, entrepreneurs, and explorers. In a Nova special I rented from the library some time ago William Fitzhugh, curator of a an exhibit on Vikings at the Smithsonian, offered a new image of the Norsemen illustrating their role in transforming Europe from a feudal society to an integrated group of modern nation-states.

They were responsible for opening up new avenues of commerce, bringing new materials into Scandinavia, spreading Scandinavian ideas into Europe. For instance, we see silk that originated in Asia appearing in archeological sites such as that at York in England. With out their involvement this would never have been possible. And their influence spread farther stretching the boundaries with their discovery Greenland Iceland the shores of Canada and New England, long before Columbus supposedly discovered the new world. That is the trick with interpreting visions. It isn't always either/or sometimes the truth is both.

-------------------  
A troll is a member of a race of fearsome creatures from Norse mythology. Originally more or less the Nordic equivalents of giants, although often smaller in size, the different depictions have come to range from the fiendish giants – similar to the ogres of England– to a devious, more human-like folk of the wilderness, living underground in hills, caves or mounds. Nordic literature, art and music from the romantic era and onwards adapted trolls in various manners – often in the form of an aboriginal race, endowed with oversized ears and noses. From here, as well as from Scandinavian fairy tales such as Three Billy Goats Gruff, trolls have achieved international recognition.

-------------------


	32. Divide

Chapter 33 Divide

When Zechs informed the others of the need to split the group none of the boys objected. Though he suspected they hadn't taken it with the same confidence as WuFei had upon hearing the news. No one said a thing. A poignant reminder of just how thoroughly the slave mind set was ingrained in the thralls of Rome, even years out of the arena he still battled it from time to time. One did not question. One did not resist. A slave obeys his betters, always.

At midmorning they stopped to share one final meal together before parting company. There was still a bit of bread, and some dried meat. Quatre had found pomegranates, figs and chestnuts along the river. WuFei doled out the candied fruit he had been saving since they had left the town of Meiran some days ago and Duo used his bolo to snare a 'brush-tailed tree rat' which they roasted on a spit. What remained was divided between them, the larger share going to Treize's group because they would be on their own longer. As it was Heero and Trowa expected they would need to hunt up something for the pot but even if prey was scarce, there ought to be enough for them to have dinner and a light breakfast. That wouldn't be an issue for his group.

The tall prince swung into Tallgeese's saddle and took up the reins. Sandrock and Duo's Death fell into place behind him. Zechs was about to lead his teem off when an unexpected call from Heero halted them, "Baka!" The gladiator jogged up grabbing onto the black steed then shoved one of his twin blades into the surprised urchin's hands. "Don't go into the unknown unarmed." He glared cobalt fire, at first Duo then Zechs for not realizing earlier. Quatre had the dagger Treize had given him and had been practicing with it whenever time permitted. But Duo had nothing but his bolos which would be useless in close quarters. It was a good precaution. Zechs nodded to Heero but said nothing. In the northland it was rare for anyone to go about unarmed. Sword and shield were to the tribes what the toga was to Romans. The elders of the clan granted arms in recognition that a youth had come of age and could use them effectively. It was a symbol he was not just a member of the clan but a part of the commonwealth as well. For a gladiator arms meant something more and Duo seemed to recognize that, to the arena bound, weapons were life.

"Heero this is yours." Duo looked from the shining blade to the tussle-headed gladiator and back again.

"I know." Heero fastened a sword belt around the urchin's waist then took the blade from the boy's loose grasp and secured it in the sheath so it wouldn't hinder movement or jostle out as he rode. "Keep it safe. Hn." Then without a second glance he spun on his heel and jogged back to where Wing was saddled and the others were waiting.

"Take care, all of you." Treize called from Epyon's back, one hand raised in a parting salute."

"You too, Try and stay out of trouble." the blonde prince called back. Treize laughed. And then they were picking their way along the steep path farther up into the mountains.

Zechs knew the way, though he hadn't traveled it in a very long time. Emotion warred within him some memories were sharp and crisp bringing tears to his eyes while others seemed misted and far away. He wanted to bask in the aura of being home yet at the same time he felt embracing those feeling was to betray the trust Treize placed in him. The villa had come to be 'home' to him but these environs had birthed him. He could not help feeling tied to this place. He longed to return again to his father's hall, to see again the sights of his childhood. It was almost painful to be this close while knowing he could venture no further. But it was not his decision to make. His father had given him to Rome and that was all there was to it.

Zechs knew Quatre could likely feel the conflict within him. So he did his best to shield his emotions to keep them from hurting the boy. Still each and every hoof-beat that drew them onward seemed to drum out words of homecoming.

The horses made their way farther up into the towering pines. The mellow clangor of bells brought their attention to a heard of wooly mountain cattle and there were rough sheep scattered amongst them. All the animals were heartier if somewhat smaller than their roman counterpart but the sight of them made emotion swell in Zechs chest. There was no sign of any man keeping watch on flock or herd but that wasn't all together unexpected. The northern beasts were a hearty lot and most knew when to head back to the hall in time for milking.

The miles fell away and Zechs could feel they were getting close now; "Duo, would you mind doing something for me?" he inquired

"And what would you have me do?" The urchin raised an arched brow.

"Could you take down your braid?" Zechs winced as he the words left him knowing how they might be taken wrong and wasn't disappointed.

"Take down my…why?" Duo frowned suspiciously drawing back his reigns bringing his mount to a dead halt in the middle of the path.

"You must have wondered why I chose you and Quatre to accompany me on this leg of the journey." He began cautiously reminded again of the fear in those violet eyes when the wolves lunged at him. The trust they shared had been damaged and it was partly his fault.

Duo clutched his braid when he was nervous, and if he was particularly troubled he petted it as if it were a living thing. That is what he was doing now. "You are leading b'coz you can find the city and get supplies. You pick those that can best be a help to ya. I can tell if the merchants are trying to lie… mis'representin' themselves or their goods and Quat can bargain from the heart. With those dreamy eyes of his they'll want to give us a good deal. The others are too heavy handed; would put the natives on the defensive right away. Right? Am I right?" There was a pleading tone to the boys voice that hinted at panic…fear of betrayal…Zechs was cut to the quick.

Quatre must be confused at the emotion radiating off the two of them. He sat astride Sandrock looking first to one than the other and back again. All in all, it seemed as if he were about to burst into tears at any moment. Zechs tried to get a handle on his emotions if only to spare his cousin experiencing it second hand. He would have felt even worse had he known the boy's own emotions were so tied up with the others that he couldn't sort them out and he was on the verge of an emotional breakdown. His eyes glazed over and the panic closed his mind to what the others were saying.

The only signs of his condition were subtle ones. Hands trembling, white knuckled on the reigns, words shaped silently on his lips as he practically chanted 'I know its against the rules for slaves to be armed… but please don't sell us… We didn't mean to. Don't sell us…please don't…We'll be good, really…truly…Please.' Duo was clearly upset, Quatre half expected the other boy to spur his mount and bolt into the woods and wasn't all together sure whither he ought not follow him if he did.

"Long hair is a sign of prestige here." Zechs explained carefully. "You mentioned Solo told you something of that particular tradition. As a Prince I would be disgraced if I were to lose mine -- Only slaves wear their hair short."

"YOU AREN"T CUTTING IT!" Duo practically yelped and he would have run had Zechs not caught a hold of the black's bridle. As it was the boys violet eyes went wide, and his breath came in short panicked breaths.

"No, not Duo, I wouldn't. Never." He tried to sound soothing. "I promise you that. I would guard your hair almost as carefully as my own. You would know if I was lying wouldn't you."

"Y-y-yes?" the youth faltered but didn't sound so sure.

"Of course you would. I chose the two of you because among our group you two look the most like northerners…especially from a distance. I sent Treize and the others along the low road to protect them. Romans have never been particularly well liked in the high country. And I can only imagine things have gotten worse with Arminious rabblerousing all about the countryside. I don't know why my father hasn't moved to do something about it before now. But I need to find out. My people don't build cities the way they do in the south. But my foster brother is one of the…_mearcstapan. (AS: boarder-hunters) _That is sort of like wardens of the area, His father kept a hall nearby and I expect he is master of it now. That is our destination."

"O-oh." Duo gulped and swallowed uncomfortably. "So you want me to…"

"Look the part of a Gallic prince, yes. I understand you don't like deception but as I see it, you may very well be one. You are an orphan correct? Your parents could have been anyone. In fact, there a chestnut-haired tribe in Gaul (Celtic France) called the _Ædui_. My father had dealings with them from time to time and described them as both cunning and honorable. They are led by one called the "_Vergobret_," a position much like a king, but his powers were held in check by rules laid down by the council in much the same you described your street gang hierarchy -- though a bit more formal. A generation ago they were honored with the title of 'brothers and kinsmen of the Roman people' forming a treaty the same fashion as my father did. They sent, one of their most powerful druids, a man by the name of Diviciacus, to Rome along with his retinue. I wouldn't be surprised if you came to be as a result of that decision…especially given your unusual talents." Zechs explained.

"All right." Duo conceded his voice firm when he finally removed the tie from his tail and systematically began working his fingers through the shimmering cascade of chestnut.

Before Zechs could breathe a sigh of relief Quatre chimed in meekly, "You, you brought me because…" the tone in his voice was absolutely pathetic.

"Because you are my cousin -- There is no denying the family resemblance and your talent--" Zechs began.

"--You are going to sell me." The blonde boy's lip trembled uncontrollably and his sea-blue eyes were fairly brimming.

"We are family. Why would you think—"Zechs began He knew his own chaotic and conflicting emotions were as much to blame as his cousin's insecurity. But surely the boy trusted him enough to know… Quatre interrupted yet again his words tumbling over themselves in their hurry to rid him of the fears resounding between his ears.

"F-family can't always be trusted especially by people who are d-different. Adua taught Mithri and I about a boy called Yusuf. He had talent to interpret people's dreams. His father favored him but his brothers saw him as a threat--or thought him insane. They beat him and planned on leaving him in the wilderness to die. Then Egyptian slave-traders came by and they decided to sell him instead. They covered the coat his father gave him with animal blood so everyone would think he had died." Quatre bit his lip almost until it bled. "It happens more often then you might think."

"Is that how you ended up a slave?" Zechs was aghast. True his uncle would have favored the boy. He traveled halfway around the world in the bearist hope his lady could concieve an heir, dragging the rest of his family with him. Zechs could not imagine any of his winner cousins exhibiting such jealousy for the babe. But time changes people. "I would _never, never _do anything like that!" He hadn't thought that needed to be explained but clearly he had been wrong-- Quatre hadn't had family. Arri had served alongside him in the Dermail household but never treated the boy as a brother or even hinted at kinship, though surely she must have known. And That fact she hadn't said a thing still disturbed Zechs.

"I-I d-don't remember." Seeing the blonde's slim shoulders tremble was a vivid example of just how precarious his little cousin's mental state was. "I-I d-don't want you to b-be ashamed of me."

Zechs tightened his knees urging his mount to sidle up beside Sandrock and gathered the boy loosely into his arms. "I have told you our people value Kin above all. Your skills are real. There is nothing wrong with you. You surely aren't crazed. And even if it were not for your skills as a seer I would still want you at my side. I am not jealous as it would seem this Joseph's brothers were. I know the heavy burden you bear because of your gifts. I have seen how such things affected your father…and mine. Your strength and good nature continually amaze me! You are one of the kindest most considerate people I have ever met. I want to shield you as best I can and hurt whomever it was that caused you to have such a low opinion of yourself! Please, what more can I say to excise these baseless fears from your mind?"

Quatre cried. He wept like he had never wept before. All the emotional residue from his companions various ups and downs…his own insecurities and doubts…the fatigue from the journey and the strangeness of the northern world bled out of him on one unthinking flood. Then the boy realized his eyes would be puffy and his face red and he wouldn't make a good impression on Zechs foster brother, he cried harder… then the emotional assault passed and Quatre found himself trying to lick the salty tears from his cheek and not quite being able to reach. In his frustration the tears stopped and he blinked owlishly at his companions. Then tried to smooth down his hair and straighten his clothing self-consciously.

"You are _So_ cute kitty Quat." Duo grinned.

"Baka." The blond borrowed the explicative with a sheepish grin… Neither WuFei nor Heero actually _told_ them what it meant, but it was used with enough frequency that Quatre was pretty sure the foreign word described what he was feeling at the moment. The little blonde consoled himself with the fact that it was only the three of them. He would have hated to have Trowa and the others see him fall apart over something so seemingly insignificant.

Zechs used the hem of his cloak to wipe away the tears and settled his cousin a bit more securely astride Sandrock. "Better now?" he asked not in the least judgmental at the undignified display. Quatre would have felt it if he was…but there was only mild concern and steadfast support.

The little blonde nodded. "Yes much…thank you."

"There, Smoke!" Duo announced pointing at a thin tendril of blue gray snaking skyward from the midst of the tree line.

"That would be the Hall." Zechs nodded.

"Suppertime!" the urchin grinned wolfishly.

Quatre leaned from his saddle to swat at the boy. "Behave!" he reminded.

Duo whined and Zechs laughed. Then the three were avidly galloping toward their destination.

Chapter 33 notes

The Aedui, were of the most powerful nations in Gaul. Diviciacus or Divitiacus is Latinised name of the only druid from Antiquity whose existence is historically attested. The name means "avenger". In addition to holding the religious office of druid, he was the Uergobretos (political head or magistrate.) of his clan. Diviciacus date of birth is not known, but he was an adult during the 60s BC at which time he was a the equivalent of a senator and escaped a massacre by the forces of the Sequani, Arverni and Germanic troops under a leader whose Latinised name was Ariovistus

He was in favor of alliance with Rome, and in the year 63 BC he went to Rome and spoke before the Senate to ask for military aid but his mission was ultimately unsuccessful. He was a guest of Cicero, who spoke of his knowledge of divination, astronomy and natural philosophy. Julius Caesar, who knew him well, speaks of him several times in his Commentarii de Bello Gallico and noted his particular skills as a diplomat.

Diviciacus had ceased to be Uergobretos by 52 BC, when the election was contested between Convictolitavis and Cotos. The date Diviciacus's death is not known, but Cicero speaks of him in the present tense in 44 BC. Given less than 2% of the population of ancient Rome reached the age of 70 it is doubtful Divicius himself was Duo's father, unless there was a slight shift in the historical timeline. It really isn't impotent to the story I just found the story interesting.

The story of Yusuf, It is of Hebrew origin, the name means is "Jehovah increases". Biblical: Joseph the son of Jacob who, sold by his brothers into slavery, rose to become a supreme power in Egypt. More popularly known as the story of Joseph and the coat of many colors. Being a slave with an uncanny gift I expect Quatre would have paid careful attention to stories of the many trials Joseph underwent as a slave. Which included having his master's wife bear false witness against him and being thrown into prison Just barely saved from execution because the pharaoh had a prophetic dream no one else could understand. Jacob interpreted the dream predicting seven years of bounty would be followed by seven years of famine and the country was able to store up supplies to lest the lean years. The story was to exemplify that everything happens for a reason. Adua would have wanted young prince Mithri to learn to rule wisely and think of ways to provide for the needs utilizing the skills of even the most unlikely slave to help your people to survive hardship.

-------------------


	33. Wiley Prey

Sorry for the delay, I've been trying to post this since yesterday but couldn't due to technical difficulties. I had to convert to HTML then upload. then the alignemt was wrong but it looks like I've got that fixed now. I know its is a bit short but i hope you enjoy it just the same. thanks.

Chapter 34 Wiley Prey

Treize, Heero, Trowa and WuFei followed the Fern River down the mountains. The sky was blue and the sun was shining brightly. The storm the night before had certainly poured out its fury and the cloud strewn peeks far above them glistened with new fallen snow. Where the vales in the south seemed to have been scooped out by playful giants this one seemed to have been the result of a fit of pique, boulders, some the size of a peasants cottage lay strewn about and falls of loose gravel sometimes threatened to choke the lazy river.

But, whatever violence had created this prodigious rift in the mountainside had occurred long, long ago and time had begun to smooth the landscape. Nature had taken the transformation one step further and fields of wildflowers splashed dazzling colors across green wooded slopes. The river was very pretty as well, a striking green-colored sheet of water that periodically swelled into placid lakes nestled among the evergreens.

WuFei could almost pretend this was _his_ mountain. He sat astride his mount; there was a particular _look_ on his face that his companions had never seen before. WuFei was secretly grateful Quatre was no longer with them for he was sure the overly perceptive blonde would have noticed the way emotion warred with his self-discipline. It had been a mistake to speak to Zechs of his past. Bringing his memories to the forefront of his mind threatened to undermine his discipline and shatter his composure. It was bad enough that Zechs had become aware of his situation. WuFei hoped the darkness had for the most part concealed the state he had been in. He wasnt like Duo or Trowa. Fully awake, in broad day light, hed sooner be strung up and whipped than have the others witness him in a moment of weakness.

"I'm riding ahead." The dark-eyed youth announced touching heels to Natakus flanks. He shot off like an arrow from the bowstring before any of the others had the chance to offer comment.

The thunder of hoof beats took him practically careening down the steep mountain path but, his travels had made him a consummate horseman and Nataku was responsive to his every touch, in fact his roan seemed to relish the opportunity to let loose and run for all she was worth. Before he had outdistanced the others to much he pulled up the reigns to wait in the shade. He skillfully vaulted from the saddle and went to wash his face in the river.

He took little comfort in the cool water. Instead it made his breath hitch in his throat and his heart pound harder in his ears. But he could not escape the tumble of memories. Tears stung his eyes as he knelt by the reed lined river. His fingers tore at the long slim leaves tearing them from their stems and flinging them to the grass by the handful. He washed his face again then scrubbed the rebellious tears away. When his companions rejoined him he would be calm, composed and in control! And may Shenlong take him if he wasn't! WuFei cursed under his breath.

His slim fingers were more suited to placing brush to parchment or gripping the hilt of a sword but in his minds eye he saw again his mother as she knelt in the riverbank weaving leaves of jade. His first childish attempts to mimic her work had been haphazard at best but she had been endlessly patient showing him the proper way to craft a strong yet supple basket. WuFei let his thoughts drift with the ripples of the lazy river and thought of the sleek fish shimmering beneath the surface. Before he knew it he had completed one bell shaped backet and begun another. His were not as neat as his mothers had been but he suspected they would be serviceable none the less.

And that was how Treize found him.

"How much farther to Barge do you think?" The eastern youth asked by way of greeting barely looking up from the slowly developing basket in his lap.

"Another hour perhaps, It shouldnt be far now. Zechs said we should be able to make camp well before dusk." his master announced.

"All right," The dark youth nodded, collecting his supplies and uncrossing his leg to rise to his feet in one fluid motion. He placed the reeds in the complete basket and secured both to the horn of Natakus saddle before mounting.

If Duo had been present he would have been nattering on and on about WuFeis uncharacteristic behavior and wanting to know what he was doing and why. WuFei suspected his other companions were likely just as curious; only less intrusive about it. They respected his privacy and at the moment, he cherished them for that. Not that it would have been any great hardship to simply tell them. It wasnt any particular secret or anything.

But at the moment he enjoyed the compatible silence as they rode together. WuFei didnt require much concentration to convince his steed to move with the others. And before too long he continued work on his baskets.

Heero and Trowa both drew alongside to watch the subtle construction take shape. By their expression WuFei suspected neither had ever witnessed even this simplistic form of the weavers art. But then again, why would they. In this world weaving was the work of peasants and women. The thought gave rise to an idea, a rather amusing ideaand the eastern youth conceived a plan quite worthy of a certain braided menace. If all went well he expected the violet eyed boy might even be jealous he hadnt been a part of the plan. And so he kept silent, for now.

-----------------------

The miles fell away and it was not long before they found the place where the Fern River runs into the Lech. It didnt look like much, a bend in the road with a stone marker naming the place Barge. Underneath it were Germanic runes, doubtlessly stating the same. Not far off was a stone pier jutting out into the slow moving water. At the end was a wooden pole to which a flag could be a fixed to alert the boatman that there were passengers awaiting his services.

It was a workable system, the only flaw being that there was no telling when the boat would arrive. But that mattered little since they were waiting on Zechs and the others regardless.

The tent was lost so there was little in the way of camp for them to set up. Treizes eagle, who had found them again shortly after the party had split that morning, was content. So it didnt look as if they were in for another soaking. This was all well and good since, aside from the surrounding forest, it didnt look as if there was much in the way of cover. Treize found a slight hump of ground under the tall pines that looked to have been used as a camp in the past. There was even a ring of stones for a fire and enough room for them to spread out their bedrolls when it was time. WuFei was confidant he could get even damp wood to burn and it would seem they required little else; excepting of course something to cook over said fire.

WuFeis stomach growled at the thought and he smiled turning to regard his companions with hands on hips. "I intend to catch us some fish for dinner. WuFei announced, If you wish to help you may."

As he expected the others looked surprised. Trowa recovered first. "The net and trident of the Retarii were molded after those used by fishermen. he mused, But I have only ever used them to snare prey of the two-legged kind."

"Hn." was Heeros characteristic reply -- though his expression was a bit more telling then was the norm since _he_ had been the one who had cause to evade the Retariis net.

"Where I am from it is said The fish is the son of the Dragon King. Everyone can fish no matter who he is so they may share in his bounty. We may go after him together."

Treize regarded WuFei with an appreciative smile and the eastern youth was surprised anew by how easily his master was able to read him. "Once we set up camp, what say we each take a place on the river and see who catches the most for the pot?"

That got Heeros attention. "A contest?" he asked quickly.

"A challenge!" WuFei smiled back and gathered his nets together. The rules are simple. The one who sees the fish first gets to cast his net first. If he cannot catch the fish, the others can cast. WuFei had explained, If someone casts prematurely then the fish counts for the person who saw it first.

Two hours later found the foursome fully engaged in their pursuit of the wily river dwellers.

There, there I see one! Heero shouted practically dancing from foot to foot. The river bottom was sharp with gravel so they had been forced to wear their sandals into the shallows. It had taken a few abortive attempts but the normally intense gladiator had learned not to try to chase after the fish but not before the leather straps of his sandals became so tangled with the reeds it looked like he was wearing ridiculous yellow boots. The fish probably thought he was some sort of monster. It was a wonder they had caught anything at all.

But that hadnt actually been the point of WuFeis plan. HIS plan had succeeded better than his wildest hopes. He had proven that, if you could get gladiators far enough outside their comfort zone, they would forget themselves and act, almost like regular boys. Duo hadnt even managed to get them to let go and relax quite this much, and the fact that _he had_ filled the former temple slave with smug pride. "Throw your net." WuFei reminded.

"Right!" Heero said but Trowa released his first to land near the reeds.

"It wasnt your turn yet." WuFei chastised the green eyed boy.

"I was going after a different one." The beast-lord explained. "And I caught it too."

"But you didnt call it and your throw scared Heeros fish back into the reeds." WuFei explained.

"Oh. Sorry Heero. You can have mine." Trowa said reaching into his basket to grasp the fish which wriggled and squirmed and slipped back into the river. Trowa growled and dove into the water the dagger flashing from the leather sheath at his belt as he chased the rapidly escaping fish.

"I see another one." Heero grinned maliciously and quickly snared Trowa in his own net. The beast lord came up sputtering. Given his companions antics WuFei had been sure he would be the victor in the contest as well. After all, it was his idea and he had fished often enough as a child. But he wasnt sure whether he was out of practice or if northern fish were just smarter but he didnt do as well as he thought.

In the end, it was Treize, who caught more fish than the other three together. And he didnt even have to stand in the river till his toes resembled sun dried grapes. Their master had simply sat the edge of the pier watching them while he surreptitiously dangled a line woven from few strands of Epions tail over the side. At its end was a copper fishhook. The fly and a float were horsehair also together with bits from one of the feathers the eagle had shaken loose during the storm. The rest, as any angler in the roman legion knew, was a matter of patience. Though the wait had been tremendously more entertaining thanks to his boys. He saw they would have plenty to eat tonight and Treize suspected his boys were going to sleep very, very, well.

**--------------------**

Chapter 34 notes:

The Fern Pass (elevation 1212 m) is a mountain pass in the Tyrolean Alps in Austria. It is located between the Lechtal Alps on the west and the Mieming Mountains on the east. The highest peak in Germany, the Zugspitze is only 13.5 km away to the northeast. The pass lies between the Grubigstein (2233 m) on the northwest, the Wannig (2493 m) on the southeast, and the Loreakopf (2471 m) on the west. The pass was created when a huge mountain slide (actually the collapse of an entire mountain, with an estimated volume of 1,000 km3; the third-largest mountain slide ever in the eastern Alps) filled part of the valley to a height of 300-400 meters, distributing its boulders up to 16 km away.

The Lech (Latin: Licus, Licca) is a river in Austria and Germany. It is a right tributary of the Danube and 264 km in length, with a drainage basin of 2,550 sq. miles. Its source is located in the Austrian state of Vorarlberg, where the river rises from the Formarinsee (a lake) in the Alps at an altitude of 6,120 ft. It flows in a north-north-easterly direction and crosses the German border forming the Lechfall, a 12 m high waterfall; afterwards the river enters a narrow gorge (Lechschlucht). Leaving the alps, it enters the plains of the Allgu at Fssen (2,580 ft.) in the German state of Bavaria, where it used to form the historic boundary with Swabia, runs through the city of Fssen and behind through the Forggensee (a man-made lake which is drained in winter ready for the next snow melt). Here, it forms rapids and a fall. The river flows further northwards through a region called the Lechrain and passes the cities of Schongau, Landsberg, Augsburg (where it receives the Wertach) and Rain before entering the Danube River. It is not navigable, owing to its torrential character and the gravel beds which choke its channel. But, as noted in the creation of the fern pass, the shape of mountain topography and the path of waterways can change drastically over time I figure that in 11AD the fern might have still been clogged with debris from the avalanche that created the valley. All that rock and whatnot will eventually end up in the Lech and may even alter its course to what it is today. But that hasnt happened yet so who is to say it the river wasnt navigable way back when?

-----------------------------  
In Hubei Province, where we had said WuFei called home. The Quote Wufei uses is a popular one in the area even today where Fishing is common to all inhabitants. You can see boats scattered all over the lakes and some fishermen stand on the front casting nets and while others used lampshade-shaped nets described to fish in the shallows. Fishermen in Hubei are loyal to their friends and the rules WuFei set out are those still practiced by those who use traditional methods popular in the land of a thousand lakes. Fishing is a way to build friendships and for those who ply the lakes in the WuDang mountains. After fishing together the men put their boats together, whether they know each other or not and go to eat and drink on one boat. The host of the boat cooks the food for them. They often put rice, vegetables, condiments, fish and meat into one pot. The meat is fat, but not greasy. The oil of the meat goes to the fish, which makes the fish fresh and delicious. And the juice from the fish permeates the vegetables and rice, which gives them a special taste.

Fishing in ancient Rome is well documented in mosaics and wall paintings found in many provinces of the Roman Empire. These and other archaeological finds and evidance provide a lively picture of fishes and other aquatic animals caught and eaten during Roman times.. Marine animals were generally more important than those from rivers and lakes, but the latter were highly esteemed in the interior of the country. Ancient writers like Aelian, Athenaios, Oppian, Ovid and Pliny the Elder were concerned with these animals and described fishing methods and gear. Romans used spears, tridents, baskets, and a wealth of copper hooks which were fitted with a carefully selected great variety of bait. I was surprised to learn that fly fishing was invented during Roman times. It is said Roman Claudius Aelianus taught the ancient Macedonians how to create their own artificial flies, and this revolution of angling for them was, as our boys found out, much easier than catching fish with nets as they had always done. I have never been fly fishing so I didnt have Treize try to find a whippy stick as a rod or anything. I once caught a dozen fish using nothing more than a hook a pencil and a length of dental floss; I probably would have earned the Miss MacGyver award at camp that summer if I hadnt been exercising my talents when I was supposed to be listening to the counselor lecture about something completely different.

-------------------


	34. Dark Deeds

Chapter 35 Dark Deeds

Zechs, Duo and Quatre halted their horses before the flimsy fence created by weaving twigs between upright posts like a rustic wooden tapestry. It wasn't particularly high, but sturdy enough to keep livestock and children from straying where they ought not.

The compound was just as Zechs remembered it. The long low timbered hall in the center surrounded by several round out-buildings made of sod. Having been in Rome and seen the wondrous marble colonnades, mosaic floors and brilliant frescoes the rustic environs hardly seemed impressive. But the fragrance of smoking meat in the air made everything seem rosy and bright. It felt like home. Half-naked children ran about waving wooden weapons to vanquish armies comprised largely of chickens and goats. Some of the dirt smudged future warriors were slave others free or half free. He could tell one from the other by the length of their hair but no distinction was made in how they were raised. Sadly the gap would grow as they aged but never as much as it did in roman society. They were clan and clan was like family. For now it was good to hear laughing ringing across the vale as if, all the world existed solely for their pleasure.

The clan women sat together in the shade bright blue eyes kept watch on the children and gossiped the day away. Agile fingers used weighted drop-spindles to transform dyed wool to yarn. Others bent over the loom while the most skilled sat with an embroidery hoop decorating the new cloth with careful stitching. This had been the way life for his people since the beginning of time and he could see it continuing thus till the day of Ragnarock when the world ends. There didn't seem to be many of the men folk about, some worked in the tannery and a few others instructing the elder children in the proper way to dip tallow candles. The majority were likely on patrol or hunting, but Zechs was reasonably certain the one he meant to see would be at home, steadfastly about his duty to hearth and hall.

"_Householder Attend! Guests_ "(Bón di begýman! An Cuma) Zechs called out loudly in his native tongue

"_Greetings friend,"_ (Heálsung frýnd) came the formal reply from within.

"_Health to you brother."_(Wæs þu hæl brôthar.) Zechs responded with a widening grin. The door to the hall swung wide and a bear of a man emerged. He was dressed in a short linen tunic and brightly colored hoes. The cape about his shoulders was edged in fur and secured with a large pin. His wavy reddish brown hair was swept away from his face and in a loose tail at the base of his neck.

Otto Richter had grown quite a bit since Zechs had last seen him, his freckles had faded but the hawk like nose and intense moss-green eyes were just as he remembered them. The man had taken several great strides toward the gate before recognition hit him. The man's steps faltered and Zechs was stunned when his foster brother sank to his knees in a sign of obecence.

"_Long live king Zechs strong-heart_" (Lang lîf Seax Rex, Hideþīhtig)

Zechs frowned, "_What? Why do you greet me in this manner? (_Hwat? Ac ðe eów griat mec þus?")

His friends face became even more pallid and he raised himself off the ground in one fluid motion brushing the grass of the hem of his tunic. "_Yes, I ought not speak out of doors Come. Dark deeds, indeed" (_Cuman ja, Ne cwæþ ic qiþan, úte duru. Dimman dǽd auftō.) He lifted the gate from its fastings and set it aside so they could pass then replaced it so the horses could graze freely within the inner ward.

As they dismounted Duo delicately snagged Zechs sleeve and mouthed one word his violet eyes pleading, "Latin?"

Zechs felt ashamed he had forgotten they were for the most part ignorant of his mother tongue, slipping into it easily without even thinking. "I will try…as I recall Otto was never particularly well versed in Romansh." He warned. "But things change. And his greeting fills me with dread. I fear very much Loki has run rampant on this side of the mountains and things are very much altered."

Quatre laid a comforting hand on his forearm at the news and Zechs appreciated the gesture as they followed their host into the hall. Duo paused on the threshold bright eyes examining the intricately carved posts framing the hall. Nearly every surface was adorned with twisting beasts, vines and knot work washed in various colors of clay. Red, yellow, green, blue and white whirls and figures danced in the flickering firelight and Tapestries, worked in gold, glittered on the walls.

"I'll bet Fei would love to see this." He breathed touching the wood.

Quatre nodded brightly casting sea-green eyes up into the crossed timbers of the roof where a profusion of bright banners and painted shields hung, each one representing clans allied with the hall. Zechs recognized colors of his family and kinsmen hanging in a place of prominence among them.

Zechs bright eyes sought out the familiar patterns and Otto led them past the hearth stone set in the middle of the herb strewn wood floor and directed them to take their ease at the table. "You recall my Uncle Scade?" he Asked the big man in clear Latin while directing Quatre's attention a the bold plum colored pennant shot through with white starbursts, that was the ancestral symbol of the Winner house.

"_Yes, I remember the Winner daughters" _(Ja, I geman ða dóhtors Winner_.) _Otto replied smiled even as he fumbled a bit with the shift in language.

"I am not surprised. You always were one for the pretty maids weren't you Otto." Zechs smiled in recollection his Latin clear and fluent.

"Ja, and the finest she is mine - Luna Armonia, my lady wife." Otto inclined his head to the statuesque blonde that had just emerged from behind the embroidered partition separating the private chamber from the public area of the hall.

"_Health to you _(Wæs hæl) Lady Luna," Zechs smiled and inclined his head to her politely as they settled around the table.

"_Health_ (Hælo), Lord Strongheart," she returned the smile but there was uncertainty in her stormy gray eyes. Far different from the freckled farm girl Zechs recalled, climbing trees and skipping stones in the lake. She looked every inch the northern royal now. The grace of a swan was in her movements as she brought goblets and a pitcher of ale to serve them.

Given that it was summer and she was likely busy about the hall Luna had no under-dress but the _peplos _she wore was of highest quality, the pale green rectangle of linen was of exceedingly tight weave and delicately embroidered with purple and gold. The twin broaches of ruby and gold that fastened it at her shoulders were strung together with amber beads. The effect was poignant, drawing the eye to naked arms, pronounced collarbones, elegant neck sloping to the upper portion of the chest, her skin shone like ivory flawless and strong.

Zechs could understand why his foster brother was so taken with her. Idly he wondered how many of the wild youths outside belonged to them…a half dozen perhaps, twins did run in the family. Zechs smiled. He would find out soon enough. The lady went to the door of the hall and put two fingers to her mouth whistling sharply to summon her brood. As it happened, no less than eight youngsters came tromping in from out of doors, the eldest carrying platters still steaming from the cookhouse. There was Ivar and Onel, Dietrich, Bruni, Mara, Eric, Ivy and Sven; all ranging in ages from 8 to 2.

"You have the makings of a fine war band here Otto, and your girls are every bit as lovely as their mother." He smiled taking the jewel studded goblet Otto's lady wife offered. Then recalled he too had introductions to make. "This is Karta Winner," He passed along the welcome cup, after taking a sip, knowing his young friends would mirror the gesture. "the son my Uncle went questing after so long ago. True to his line he is an _druid-prince (_Æethling druidi_)_. Our companion is _leader-prince and seer (_Ealdor filid_,)_ Dui Maximus. We had a bit of a mishap in the storm yester eve and have come seeking supplies that we might continue our journey."

One of the elder boys ladled meat pieces and thick gravy onto into hearty brown serving-bread (trencher) for each of the guests. The northerners did not use plates, rather they served their meals upon slices of bread, the guest of honor, meaning Zechs was given the 'upper crust' as it was less likely to leak on the table Duo received the bottom slice, as he too was classed as a prince. Quatre, by virtue of his shorter hair, got one of the middle slices. It was no meant as an insult given the family ate from the middle as well. But his position was different than his companions. "Sa!" The boy ventured with a sly grin, "That packhorse we found in the south pasture he was yours?"

"You found Virgo? Alive?" Quatre blinked in surprise.

"Psch alive, what you think the beast was not fit? Fine stewing is horse, Tasty." The boy ladled him a double portion. Quatre paled and pushed it away.

"Manors Ivar!" his mother snapped. "Is _Eofor,_ the boar, and well you now it! Young Karta may be _half-free _(healffreón) but he is blood-kin to our _liege lord_ (Mondryhten) hold a civil tong in your head."

"_Yes mother."_ (Ja Mōdor) The boy hung his head.

One of the girls, who looked to be Ivar's twin explained "The creature's is lame in the foreleg, but will make a fine stud. You may have _quecksilber -- _Sa is Mercury to you, like your god of war. Together wit _fate _(Vate) they make a good pair. Good to carry what you need. They are fine beasts. This will suit you _lord_ (_Hlāford) _yes?"

"I am sure that will be fine." Zechs answered but again this formality with those that should have been near as kin unsettled him and though the meal was delicious Zechs found he had little appetite.

"Ja we are very pleased and surprised to see you my lord but I wonder, where are your _attendants _(hand-sceolu) that they would let you wonder about the mountain with only two to see to your needs?" Lady Luna inquired. "You have brought a war-band and many slave soldiers from the south have you not?"

"I have sent the rest of my companions to secure the barge for our continuing journey to the military camp at _Augusta Vindelicorum._" (latin: Modern Augsburg, Germany) Zechs pushed the food around with a bit of crust a clear sign he was uncomfortable. "Though distance and time have separated us I have always counted you among my shoulder companions Otto-- But I begin to question. I am not blind to the fact that you and your kin called me titles more deserving of my sire than my self. What has changed between us that you would fall in obedience rather than embrace me as brother? Am I not the same prince-ling you tossed in the pond for leaving frogs in your bed? Where is this formality springing from?" He demanded finally.

"Then you do not know truly?" Otto asked half draining his cup in a single gulp.

"I knew of Arminious' rebellion and governor Varsis defeat. How could I not when word of that sent ripples the length and breadth of the Roman Empire? But I have only just learned of our shield's loss. That is why we have come; to rectify the situation. Why has no one else acted to balance the peace?"

The rest of Otto's goblet was gone, refilled and downed just as quickly. Then without preamble the man announced; "_Your father is dead."_ (Izwar fæderas dēade,)

"Dead? No! Not my father." Zechs world was suddenly constricted to encompass nothing but those four fateful words. Quatre was clutching at his breast in sympathy and Otto was thrusting a tankard of ale at him commanding him to drink. He did and sputtered some. At his fathers table he had rarely had anything stronger than watered honey mead and Treize of course preferred wine. This heady mountain brew was another thing altogether. He gasped then reached for the pitcher but Duo moved it away.

"I know grief remember." The boy whispered "This is not the way. Breathe. Like Fei showed us. Breathe in--and the tiger marks trees on the mountain. Breathe out--and the dragon blows bubbles in the lake."

Zechs was pretty sure that wasn't the image WuFei had given them but the suggestion was sound. He tried his best to focus on his breathing and reign in the wild emotion that threatened to consume him. If not for his sake than for Quatre; the little blonde's face was white as a freshly laundered toga and his hand rubbed at his chest with one clenched fist. Zechs grit is teeth and tried to shield his emotions as best he could.

"Good." Duo soothed, "Get your answers first, then--" The youth nodded to the over-full weapons rack standing against one wall "—we'll get Otto ta lend us a pair of staves there and you and me'll let the dragon and tiger loose together and fight till you are too tired to think. It will help, I promise." Duo confided, his grip tightening around Zechs rigid bicep a gentle reminder to unclench the muscles of fists and arms before he lashed out at their host.

Zechs mind was still reeling, and he didn't even question whether the street urchin could withstand the full force of his near berserk emotion when focused in combat, he only understood the aching need, "Answers first, then we spar." Zechs growled turning his icy gaze on this foster brother once more.

"No one knows what it was that happened. The _gold-hall _(goldsele) was attacked in the dark of night. The _hearth-companions_(heorðwerod) perished -- My lady's sister Soris together with Valder Farkill, who was her husband, and far too many others fell with our _High king _(Hēah-thane.) The Rus were left broken with _grief of heart_ (brēostcearu) and _lord-less" _(_Hlāfordlēas_.)

"And those of the _white fang_?" (_Hwīt Fæng_) Zechs asked slowly, though his heart was filled with dread for those who would have been his shield-men had his father wished him to stand as a Warlord Prince and not a Peace-crafter.

"The one you call Arminious, told us you died years past." Otto tried to explain. "He knew you from the legion ja? His second-man called Kanz, reported that the Romans did not keep you safe as promised. He said for sport in their arena you died. Your father didn't want to believe. He said, 'The shield is safe, treaty it stands. Raise no blade against _Rome_. (Rómá)' We walked the way of peace for him, his dreams; now our _Sea king (_MereKāser) is no more and the _remnants of the people _(leóda láfe) look to Armin Strong-Arm for peace, and for him, Kanz leads the White Fang. I am here, while others are gone because he knows I do not trust him -- An outsider, a _roman nobleman _(Rómániscum æðelinge,) with our precious shield in his keeping. Sa is not good. I am your man, and remain so. I am glad you have come back to lead us."

Zechs fists clenched bringing the stigma of the arena marking his forearms into striking relief. "No, no. I can not. Kanz is my enemy and I know it well but I am a Peacecraft. I will not initiate a blood-feud. I am not surprised he told you I died in the arena. When we served in the legion together, he was known as Quinze Barton. He was the Tribuni who convinced Legate Catelonia to send me to Capua for additional training instead of elevating me to the rank of Primus as he had planned. When it became apparent my opponent's blade could not take me and I succeeded in winning my freedom from the arena, Barton tried poison. His scheme would have succeeded had I been left in his doctor's care.

But Treize, my _forever-friend (_sundorwíne,) learned of the plot and took me. His own healer tended me. But for them I surely would have died. I am not the king my father was, I can not lead you. My destiny was set long ago. I am a son of our people yet I am of Rome. To try and be both would tear me apart. Our _precious shield _(Dēorlinde) must be recovered to secure the peace and I will give my all to do so. But afterward I will be returning to Rome my duty is there and I will honor it.

"I was made promises that I would not be called on to war against my own people. I will leave the task of chasing Arminious through the fens to General Germanous." Zechs looked grim his fists still white knuckled a testament to how much it cost him to keep his passions in check.

"I would not be surprised if the Barton's hired that assassin to infiltrate the villa too." Quatre frowned. "It is true they are no friend to Master Treize, and the tension between them was made all the worse when he took Miss Mariemia from Lord Dekim. However, if the peace teeters on your presence here I think it likely you may have been the true target all along. They might have succeeded if I had not been in your usual place."

"That I can't say but I think it likely. In that same vein, I doubt the legion was behind the attack on my father. Romans don't attack at night as those of the clans oft times do. Before the destruction of Varsus those of the Empire never even considered the tactic – By their standards it …isn't…honorable. But I vividly recall it was speakers of our own tongue who ushered in a night of fire and death robbing me of my mother, elder brother, sister and cousins. To me it seems those same enemies found opportunity to complete what they started." He hissed lacing his fingers together and bracing them in a backward arch, popping the joints. "I am an orphan. There is no help for it."

"You've still got us." Duo gave him a small smile. Normally it was not good to fight on a full stomach if you could help it but Zech had eaten little…And street urchins could, and did, eat whenever the opportunity arose with no ill effects whatsoever. So there was no point in further delay. "Staves?" Duo suggested nodding to the weapons rack standing against the wall.

"Staves!" Zechs nodded rising to his feet and quickly choosing a staff that suited his height permitting Duo to do the same. Otto's children cleared the tables and disassembled them and the benches were moved against the wall to form beds. "When you are through with your exercise, you will have my chamber so the children will not disturb you during the night." Otto suggested.

"I will not. This is your hall Otto. We have our own bed rolls and there is plenty of room by the hearth." The prince's expression made clear the matter was settled.

"Very well." Otto's shoulders slumped, then a wry smile ghosted across his lips and he added, "But I'd best not find any frogs come the morning."

Zechs squeezed his old friend's arm companionably and He and Duo made their way out into the yard just as the setting sun was painting the glistening mountain peeks in crimson and gold.

Chapter 34 notes:

Wæs þu hæl, (health to you) Wæs hæl (be helthy) and Hælo, (health) are all variants of the same greeting wishing. If you have ever heard the song, "here we go a wastling along the leaves so green." And wondered what 'wassail' was, it is a contraction of Wæs hæl. The practice it refers to could be explained as 'to go visiting' though it was in fact a bit more like Christmas caroling, going from house to house offering well wishes to those within. In return those you have come to see offer is a hot, spiced punch also came to be known as 'Wassail'. This tradition was particularly popular in Germanic countries, incidentally the modern word 'hello' is the direct descendant of 'Hælo' so the next time you answer the phone by saying 'hello' think 'good health to you my friend' because that is what you are really saying.

This section takes place in Switzerland's largest canton, Graubünden, occupies the entire southeast of the country and takes in a huge but sparsely populated area that's the most culturally diverse in Switzerland, bordering on Liechtenstein and Austria to the north, and Italy to the east and south. Its folded landscape of deep, isolated valleys (well over a hundred of them), sheer rocky summits and thick pine forests makes it the wildest and loneliest part of Switzerland, more difficult than most to get around in, but also more rewarding, with some of the finest scenery in the Alps. Glaciers oozing from between the high mountains launch two of Europe's great rivers – the Rhine and the Inn – on their long journeys to the North Sea and the Black Sea respectively, while two smaller rivers water pomegranates, figs and chestnuts in secluded southern valleys en route to the Po and the Gulf of Venice. The canton – once the Roman province of Rhaetia Prima – is officially trilingual, German, Italian and Romansh, the last of these a direct descendant of Latin which has survived locked away in the mountain fastnesses far from the cantonal capital Chur since the legions departed 1500 years ago. . If you stick to the main tourist centres of Chur, Davos and St Moritz, you'll see and hear only Swiss-German, but if you venture into the countryside, you'll find signs to the staziun pointing along Via Principala, and hear people greeting each other in what sounds like Italian with a Swiss-German accent.

**Where fiction and history fall into place: (No there won't be a test later) this is just to give you a wider view the past, (in history as well as this particular story line I thought of making this a flashback of sorts but in his current frame of mind this is the last thing Zechs is thinking about just now. It is in fact amazing he is as lucid as he is**.

Historical figure Nero Claudius Drusus, was first given the title of Germanicus, by Emperor Augustus because of his efforts to pacify/conquer the north land. He died in 9 BC in consequence of a fall from a horse, lingering on for a month after the accident. The title 'Germanicus' then passed to his eldest son whom I have mentioned various times, Claudius's brother. Who would eventually inherit his father's position as Legatus Legionis commanding the troops in Germania.

The rank of Legatus Legionis: that is to say the overall Legionary commander. This post was generally appointed by the emperor, was a former Tribune and held command for 3 or 4 years, although could serve for a much longer period. In a province with only one legion, the Legatus was also the provincial governor and in provinces with multiple legions, each legion has a Legatus and the provincial governor has overall command of them all.

In my time line, after the death of Nero Claudius Drusus the command of the northern troops passed to General Catelonia, (dorthy's father from the series.) Historically speaking the Catalans (_Catalanenses_) was the roman name for the area around the Iberian Peninsula in Spain and Southern France, below Gaul. It would make sense that 'Catelonia' was, like 'Germanicus' an earned title granted by the emperor in evidence of mastery over this territory.

The rank immediately below Legatus Legionis was Tribunus Laticlavius: Named for the broad striped toga worn by men of senatorial rank. This tribune was appointed by the Emperor or the Senate History tells us they served as second in command of the legion, behind the Legate but were generally younger and less experienced than the Tribuni Angusticlavii. In my view Catelonia's Tribunus Laticlavius was none other than Quince Barton. And while he is not young, he had more experience in the senate than in the battlefield and was in actuality more of a watchdog for the senate and the "Fellows of Rome." this set him at ods with his commander and made him unpopular with the troops.

Catelonia had a healthy respect for the north-men and would make treaties and taking hostages to seal those treaties with them where conflict could be avoided. And so it was Zechs passed into his command. Zechs impressed the general immensely and so Catelonia considered naming him Primus Pilus (First File). This would have made him the commanding centurion of the first cohort and the senior centurion of the entire Legion. An important position several stepped down the chain of command it would allow him entry into the equestrian social class upon retirement and as head of the order equestor would have brought the young barbarian prince to Treize's attention. But Quince counseled Catelonia that Zechs at 16 was too young and needed a bit 'more training', not to mention a 'better understanding of roman discipline.' Once the general reluctantly agreed the unsuspecting prince was shipped off to the arena…and the position Primus Pilus of went to (Historical figure) Arminious, then 25 years old chief of the Cherusci instead.

Treize would have been directly below Directly below Quince in the chain of command filling the position of Tribuni Angusticlavii, There were actually 5 military tribunes each chosen from the equestrian class (equates or Knights of Rome) for each legion they were in many cases career officers and served many of the important administrative tasks of the Legion, They also had full tactical command function during engagements. Because of his blood ties as General Catelonia's cousin, as well as his position as the elected leader of the Equates, Treize would have held precedence over other 4 Trubuni one of which was his friend Germanicus. When General Catalonia was killed (under mysterious circumstances) The soldiers followed Treize's command rather than Quince because although younger, Treize was a more experienced leader having served in the legion since he was 15 years old. (The usual enlistment age is 17 but having been orphaned at 14 entering the military early seemed a good option.) Germanicus took Treize's place as Tribuni while at the age of 18 Treize commanded the legions until the emperor could name a replacement. Quince Barton was not amused.

It was not long after this Treize was injured in battle when a young barbarian (possibly Cherusci) spearman took his horse out from under him leaving him badly injured. (Historical figure) Publius Quinctilius Varus arrived around 6AD to take up the mantle of Legatus Legionis. As historically documented, in 9AD Arminous betrayed Varsis and ambushed and annihilated a Roman army (comprising the 17th, 18th and 19th legions as well as three cavalry detachments and six cohorts of auxiliaries) totaling around 20,000 men. When defeat was certain, Varus committed suicide by falling upon his sword.

---------------------


	35. Deeds done in Darkness

Chapter 36 Deeds done in Darkness

Quatre watched in awe as his two long haired companions strove to knock one another senseless. Duo's hair was once more in its characteristic braid swinging in counterpoint to his graceful movements. Zechs' hung free cascading around him like a golden waterfall.

"You use your stave like a scythe!" The barbarian growled leaping backward to avoid the wild swing.

"What better tool to cut your cornstalk-self down to size?" The urchin taunted back, dancing away from the blonde's counter strike. Right now the lost prince needed a safe outlet before exploded from the pressure. Duo helped Zechs focus this mind entirely on the contest of arms giving vent to the storm broiling within without dwelling on the specifics. There would be plenty of time for him to grieve later.

The fight was fast and furious. The elder blonde, as Duo noted, had the advantage of longer limbs and his reflexes had been trained to near perfection in the ring. Sometimes, when he truly let go in the midst of a fight it was as if everything stilled into a single point of focus where he knew what his opponent was about to do before they did.

But Duo was not easy to predict. The urchin fought instinctively using a street style that was far different to those Zechs had faced in he past. As soon as the blonde was sure he had the boy right where he wanted him Duo would vanish, twisting dodging or literally running circles around him. The boy gave new meaning to the word 'quick.' It was like grasping at shadows.

"That is just unnatural," Zechs growled puffing out his breath in mild frustration.

"Come on windy, gonna catch me or what?" Duo smiled, jokers mask firmly in place.

"You've been taking lessons from the unseen." Zechs accused.

"I run, I hide, I got nothing ta deny!" Duo chanted ducking under Zechs staff to lay a blow of his own on the prince's thigh.

Zechs countered catching him in the shoulder. Both would be covered with bruises before they were finished. Treize would be disapointed he hurt the boy, but it felt good to get the blood pumping in his veins. They circled one another exchanging furious strikes till Zechs caught the boy a bit harder than he's intended on the tailbone…and as he fell Duo took him out at the knees. It was a tie.

The boy lay sprawled in the grass panting, Zechs knelt in the dust his legs shaking too much to allow him to rise. "I'm sorry." The blond breathed. "Are you all right?" He had not even been aware of the silent tears that traced silver trails down his cheeks during much of the fight.

Duo nodded in the affirmative and wheezed taking the ladle and water bucket to drench head and shoulders in effort to cool down. "You?" he asked.

Not a particularly good time for self-assessment. Zechs was physically uninjured, but far from 'all right.' How could he be when his father was dead? The memory lashed back at him. The blonde bit his lip rocking backward to sit on the ground resting his forehead on his upraised knees. He closed his eyes and envisioned tigers and dragons and sought a way to keep the two creatures from becoming all teeth and claws as they tried to kill each other. 'Breathe' he mentally berated. 'Just breathe; damnit.'

Quatre gave into the leading of his empathy when normally he would shield himself and wait for the storm to pass. Zechs wasn't like other masters and he had to trust his cousin would hold to his word and not hurt him for this later. Mistress Catalonia had often bragged that it took a strong hand to manage the gladiators who wished to pay court to her. He had witnessed her do it often enough, It had usually left him feeling slightly ill. He'd seen Zechs and Treize use the same tactic, to better effect, when Heero was having a hard time adjusting to new things. But it seemed strange for _him_ to do so. But Quatre's heart-sense told him that this was what his cousin needed at the moment. What is more he suspected Master Treize would have done the same for his grieving friend. So he tamped down his nervousness and went up boldly to the other man holding out a tankard of water "Drink!" the little blond commanded.

Zechs reacted instinctively to the steel in his voice, just as he would have if it came from one of his commanding officers…or his keeper in the ring. He took the cup numbly and sipped the cold liquid without hesitation.

Quatre stepped back, posture still rigid, with a hint of swagger he circled the man. "Tisk tisk," he frowned with hands on hips as he assessed the sight before him. "You surely can not sleep like that, "Comb!" He ordered holding out a hand to Zechs who handed him the requested item. "Turn." Quatre he directed motioning with his hand. Zechs stood to obey, then the boy began methodically working the tangles from loose corn silk. Duo joined him massaging scalp and setting the golden mane to rights.

The barbarian prince found his neck relaxing into their gentle ministrations just as he had back in the villa. The tension in his broad shoulders began to ease. At least he stopped trembling. That was a good sign.

"All right, back inside. Rest! You too Duo." Quatre gave him a gentle shove.

"Bossy lil' thing aint ya." Duo grinned but was happy to follow along.

Once they had settled down in the nest of pillows and bedrolls Otto's young ones had made for them by the fire Quatre brought out his harp and the dulcet chords he struck did their best to banish the nightmare that had become Zechs reality. Still just having the others near worked to soothe his tattered soul.

-------------------

The fire had died to embers and the night was not as cold as the previous had been and none of Treize's faction bothered to wake enough to feed it. The night was far spent and the world was at peace, or so it seemed. Heero was the first to sense different. The young gladiator grasped the hilt of his short sword and rolled to his feet in one flowing movement before he was even fully awake. His blade lay across the neck of a figure who had dared creep close to his sleeping companions.

"Are you going to kill me?" a strange, undeniably female voice taunted quietly. In a flash Heero saw again the girl and her puppy and recalled his vow to never again take an innocent life. The blade fell from his nerveless fingers and the strange girl laughed.

"What are you doing here?" Heero asked loud enough to rouse his companions.

"I should be the one asking you that. This is OUR side of the mountain."

"We have come seeking the _Dēorlinde Peacecreft." _Treize answered rising to his feet. WuFei sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and it seemed the neglected campfire burned just a little bit brighter.

The girl laughed again. "Well, that is a name I've not used in years." She ran a hand down Heero's chest smoothing the sleep wrinkles from his tunic. The young gladiator bristled, fists clenched at his sides. But he could not strike her.

"What name do you go by then?" Treize asked trying to draw her attention away from his boys.

She boldly stalked toward him, and flicked her hail over her shoulder, "Haven't you got the message general, Armus strong-arm has made me Queen of the World." With that announcement more shadows closed in on them, Warriors dressed in dark clothes, their faces darkened…even their weapons gave off no light. The foursome was badly outnumbered. And there was no denying the newcomers intent.

"Well done my dear." A cultured voice cut through the night before the speaker emerged from the darkness to take a place at her side.

"Quince Barton you fiend! I should have known Arminious wasn't the only Traitor in the ranks!" Treize took a step toward the man and stumbled on the edge of his bed roll. Immediately he had four spear points directed at various sensitive places in his anatomy.

"Such a pity Kushrenada, You could have been truly great." Quince sighed "If you weren't so dammed noble. Now you are just a pathetic cripple. I'm actually surprised you made it this far. You couldn't even protect your fair prince what makes you think you have what it takes to take our Queen?"

"What have you…" Treize began but his words ended in a grunt of pain when a hard soled northern boot connected with the side of his knee sending him to the ground with a sickening crunch.

WuFei tried to get to his fallen master but the enemy warriors prevented him, "No heroics pup." The large man growled practically shoving him back toward Heero.

Trowa had slowly, carefully, gotten to his feet using the shadows of the underbrush to mask his movements as best he could. "When I tell you to get clear, get clear." Trowa whispered to his companions, "Run and don't look back. WuFei help Treize into the woods as fast as you can. Heero get the rest of the horses and supplies. Make your way to the caves then we can find Zechs and the others."

"What are you going to do?" Heero asked but Trowa wasn't listening. He was concentrating with everything he had. His lips were moving, almost silently shaping words in a tongue far more ancient that even that of the _Raśna _though the two were clearly related. "_An nal nethrack uuth va doth del dien vae… An nal nethrack uuth va doth del dien vae._" Trowa had only heard those words once in his lifetime, moments before his father had perished.

"I did not expect Arminius's men this close to Augusta Vindelicorum but I must say you have saved us quite bit of travel time. This is between you and me Quince Lets settle this. Think you can handle a cripple? Let's see you try." Treize struggled to regain his feet. Several of the warriors made threatening moves toward the boys to forestall any hasty action. "They are just slaves barely more than children. Leave them out of this." Treize growled. He cried out when another booted foot connected with his ribs sendind him back to the ground.

Not yet, Trowa's hand to WuFei's arm stilled him. It was still several hours before dawn. "An nal _nethrack," _He whispered as morning mist came prematurely curling from the damp ground. "_Uuth va, doth del dien vae_."

Trowa had felt the power in the storm the previous night. For the first time since his awakening in the ruins he knew what it was and what it meant. He breathed out and the clouds rolled in blocking out the stars. "_An nal nethrack_," the last of the Rumantae kings felt the clouds descend in the dark of night. "_Uuth va," _he whisperednone truly noticed the mist swirling between the trees. "_Doth del dien vae_!" he finished forcefully this time.

His foot lashed out kicking his iron trident into his hand and with a loud voice he cried out, "CLEAR!" and threw the three pronged spear into the pile of saddle bags stacked neatly beside the fire then dropped chest to the ground. For him it was as if an instant stretched out for an eternity. WuFei was off like a shot, He leapt high, his foot connecting with the face of the first warrior that thought to grab him. He took out the second with a punch to the gut and the third fell like a rock when the flat edge of WuFei's hand shattered his collarbone like dry kindling. His momentum alone was enough to pull Treize to his feet. He slipped under the elder man's arm and ran together for the trees. Trowa breathed a sigh of relief but it froze in his lungs. Heero hadn't run. He was still standing his back to the campfire. The gladiator grabbed the girl, roughly spinning her around to face him. "I WILL kill you!" he hissed.

"Heero no!" Trowa shouted but it was too late lightning lanced from the clouds drawn to the haft of his trident. It traveled down into the bags igniting WuFei's entire supply of flash powder instantly transforming the dully glowing campfire into a raging inferno.

Heero was flung through the air head over heals till the full length of him connected with a tree trunk. He slid boneless-ly in a still smoking heap at the foot of the tree. Thunder rumbled making the mountain quake. Between the thick fog, smoke and flame it would have been impossible for their enemies to find them even if they had been putting forth a concentrated effort. But as it was the barbarian warriors were crying out in fear of their gods and running in all directions.

Trowa rocketed to his feet and ran to his companion. The smell of burnt hair and flesh accosted him but he didn't stop for an instant. Tears stung his eyes as he scooped Heero's limp body up in his arms and ran for the nearest horse. He didn't even notice that it was Epion that carried them into the woods. Lightning lanced out time and again but aside from that first strike Trowa lacked the ability to direct it. Simply warding the bolts away from himself and his companions exhausted him.

In time the angry cloud he summoned would exhaust itself and dissipate but in the meantime the valley was a dangerous pace to be. And that was only the half of it for there was fire alive in the night as well. Leaping and dancing devouring trees and underbrush as it passed. It was a good thing the valley was predominately rock and the rivers twisting path would keep the destruction contained. It should rain soon as well, but that would not be enough to eradicate dark stain on the landscape.

One did not call on the power of the elements except at greatest need. Trowa recalled his father had done so in effort to turn back his enemies and died in the attempt; the cost was just too high, and what of Heero? Trowa held his friend's broken body to his chest as they rode, his cheek was pressed into untruly, blood matted hair and the scent of singed flesh clung to them both. "Please be all right, I'm sorry. Please be all right." He breathed and urged his mount deeper into the darkness.

----------------

Quatre woke from an uneasy sleep with a strangled cry. "They are in trouble!" he cried tears stinging his eyes. "We have to go."

"What now?" Duo grumbled. "Are you sure it wasn't a dream?"

"Heero is hurt badly, I feel it." Quatre declared.

"Alright, all right, lets go then." The braided boy blinked at him. "It is a good thing Otto got all the supplies together for us last night; and those horses, what'did e'call'um, Mercurius and Vayeate? There ready too.

"Otto I'm sorry." Zechs told the bleary eyed man. "Our companions need us that takes precedence over all else. Change is in the air my friend, send word to Germanous. I have a feeling we won't be seeing him as planned. Thank you for all you've done."

"You need to eat more. You are too thin." Otto waved sleepily at his foster brother like a cat batting at a piece of string. "Feed him." He told Duo and Quatre. "My woman she is a good cook."

"Yes sir that she is." Duo grinned. "Tell her I said so."

"Um hum." Their host nodded and stumbled back to bed.

Once they had collected their things and went out side Duo stopped eyes wide, mouth gaping. The entire valley stretching out below looked to be nothing more than a seething sea of cloud. Thunder rumbled and lightning illuminated bits here and there. At its heart was a dull red glow that quickly spread. And that was only what he saw with normal sight. Gazing into the unseen things got even more complicated. "I have no doubt in your instincts Q-boy but we do _not _want to go down there, seriously." Duo gulped, his mouth gone dry.

"Why what do you see?" Both blondes wanted to know.

"High weirdness -- seriously high weirdness, I thought the way Quat's sort of glows when he gets worked up is strange but this…" Lightning flashed again and Duo jumped. "Our brothers were at the heart of it and if I were them, I'd be heading for, safer ground. We're too far away to be of immediate help I think we ought to double back the way we came rather than risk our necks charging into that maelstrom."

"It's good plan," Zechs confirmed, deciding not even to broach the subject of his cousin…seeming to glow, in Duo's divine sight. He had heard of stranger things, one of which immediately presented itself. "Treize sent us help, Look." He pointed out the brindled she wolf loping out of the dense wood. She had not ventured in the barbarian compound and had stayed clear of their livestock but kept an close eye on the two-legged cubs as just as she had been asked.

"She'll be able to find her mate and he'll be with the others." Zechs explained. The two newest members of the Kushrenada heard weren't accustomed to having a canine guide but Bryn seemed to sense that as well and stayed far ahead and down wind so as not to spook them. The three climbed into their respective saddles and traced their way cautiously back down the mountain pass.

---------------

**Author note: **Some of you have expressed concern about my portrayal of Relena thinking her particularly OOC. I must tell you this Relena has had quite a different set of experiences than the one in the series. I am not casting her as the crazed harpy often seen in fan-fics. She is not a Heero-obsessed stalker or a wishy-washy peacenik, out of touch with reality. This stage in the saga is quickly drawing to a close and Relina's appearance in it is admittedly rather brief. I am trying to set up something I believe is rather unique which becomes fundimental to the next story in this set. I do hope you bear with me and give her character the opportunity to grow and develop in this incarnation before casting judgment. As always i appreciate your feedback just bear in mind that appearances can be deceiving. thanks.

Chapter 36 notes

Seneca the Younger described the difference between how the Roman and Etruscans explain lightning " Whereas we (roman's) believe lightening to be released as a result of the collision of clouds, they(the Etruscans) believe that the clouds collide so as to release lightening: for as they attribute all to deity, they are led to believe not that things have a meaning in so far as they occur, but rather that they occur because they must have a meaning. The Etruscans totally accepted the inscrutability of God's will. They did not attempt to rationalize or explain why he does anything or put any doctrines in his intent.

The Etruscans believed in intimate contact with divinity.[7] They did nothing without proper consultation with the gods and signs from them. They developed an elaborate system of divination called _Zich Nethsrac_. Reading signs in nature as a way to ascertain the gods will. Zich was the word for understanding on a deep level. Nathrac', referred to 'that which is 'earth shattering' such as extreme or grief of heart' Treize used the word in this second sense to describe what was wrong with Trowa after his break all those chapters ago. It is also the same as the Anglo-Saxon "Brēostcearu" that Otto used describe how the Rus felt at loosing their king.

If you are interested in knowing where I got Trowa's 'words of power' they are the ones (as I recall them) that Merlin used to summon lightning in the classic movie 'Excalibur'. I wasn't able to find documentation for any but 'Nethsrac' mentioned above. I expect they were Hollywood invention. Still they feel like language rather than gibberish. I haven't seen the movie in a long time so my phrase could be way off. The main reason I recall them at all was because watching the 'lord of the rings' in the theater and it came to the part when Gandalf was using the language of Mordor my skin crawled. Tolkien was first and foremost a true linguist creating the languages of his world, it was a very odd experience but these were the words that unaccountably came to my lips in defense because they _felt_ equally powerful -- Pretty silly huh? Still it seemed fitting to use them here.

-------------------


	36. Blaze of Fury

Chapter 37 Blaze of Fury

Treize had been dazed by the renewed pain in his knee, but the strangeness of the night still managed to seep into his consciousness. That lightning would come spawned not of cloud but of mist was nearly unheard of and there was nothing natural about the way the fire had been swept aside like a curtain as they hurtled past only to close again behind them. There were forces beyond his understanding at work here and Treize idly wondered what a certain perceptive pair of violet eyes would make of the situation. But Duo was safe, Quatre and Zechs with him. It was one of the few thoughts in which he could take refuge from the pain. Quinze had assumed his prince was dead; but Treize would have known if that were the case. Vigilant golden eyes had taken note of a bit of in-pack wrangling but nothing that seemed serious by wolf standards. Zechs was fine and so were Duo and Quatre.

WuFei was muttering quietly in his native tongue not paying attention to anything but the hazy landscape that hurtled past fully focused on getting them both to safety. Treize grit his teeth against the pain and forced his thoughts toward his lupine companions. He silently conveyed an image the cave where they had sheltered and growled **_Safe_** knowing the wolf pair would understand. Zechs knew enough to let Bryn guide them. Treize only hoped Argent could make Heero and Trowa do the same.

Treize wasn't as attune to his father's eagles as he was to the wolves. But having an eye in the sky was a useful thing especially when ground visibility was problematic. It was one of the reasons he had been such a successful commander in the legion. Still the bird wouldn't fly at night but simply knowing where it had chosen to roost in relation to the two wolves could give Treize a pretty good idea that He and WuFei were traveling in the right direction. He had almost managed the link when Nataku leapt a small gully, jolting his knee once more. Flashes of light and color lanced behind his eyes every bit as brilliant as the lightning that linked earth and sky. He gasped and a small whimper escaped thorough his grit teeth and his concentration scattered like leaves in a gale.

This sort of pain had been his constant companion for the better part of two years but he'd never grown accustomed to it. Pain squelched his ability, leaving him only the ears and eyes he had been born with; that more than any thing else left him feeling half the man he ought to be, a pathetic cripple as Quince had named him. Then WuFei had given him respite from the pain and he had reveled in it. Now it looked as if the damage Quince had put him right back where he had begun. It was rare to come back from that sort of injury once, twice was impossibility. The pain came in waves each seeming worse than the one before. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he choked back a harsh sob. Breath came with difficulty and his head swam. Somewhere in the darkness the eagle screamed.

----------------

WuFei could tell the older man was hurting. Quinze, had knowingly exploited Treize's injured knee, It was the epitome of dishonor. WuFei hated their enemy for that more than any other, and his anger burned. It burned clear and bright in such a way as it hadn't since he'd been taken from his mother. That anger destroyed more than half the village.

It was no wonder the elders hated and feared him. During his years at the temple there had been no question that WuFei lived by their forbearance alone. They feared his power and he had come to do the same. The chords of discipline they set would have likely held him indefinitely. But Treize benevolently challenged his five to be free regardless of their circumstances. And WuFei found himself tugging at the old restraints the elders were in no position to enforce.

The flash powder had been his first infraction. A few whispered words as he ground the ingredients and mixed them to ensure it would remain dormant and safe until need ignited it. The next was a bit bolder; true his fire-sticks had been prepared the same time as the powder using the same technique but persuading damp wood to burn required a bit more effort on his part. Being mountain born he knew the dangers of freezing to death when the chill wind blows. It was not a risk he wanted to take, especially when he knew himself able to remedy the situation. This, the third time was unforgivable. He had not even realized the elder's geas had slipped this far until it was gone. Quince had struck Treize cried out and fell. Then, someone dared try to prevent him from going to the man. The anger kindled within loosed an inferno that burned even now. The elders of the Long clan would have had him executed on the spot.

The string that confined his hair had broken. The severe style he kept was a constant reminder to hold his emotions in check. Now, when he needed that reminder the most, it was no where to be found. His hair fell free and the fire raced through vale. WuFei Tugged Treize's arms tight around his chest tried to reign in his emotion that fed the flames. WuFei could hear the occasional rumble of thunder and sudden flash in the vale they had left behind. At their current height among the mountains the clouds yielded little more than curling mist but the fire continued to sputter and hiss unwilling to die. As they rode the dampness persisted coalescing on skin till drops fell like sullen tears making the loose hair cling to his face.

It was near dawn and WuFei was more than grateful when Nataku found her way to the small cave where they had sheltered. WuFei was far from weak. He would have words with any who judged otherwise and they would soon have cause to regret their hasty assumption. But he was…by Roman standards, some what deficient in height and mass. Helping Treize to dismount and getting him into the cave was something of a chore; especially since the man's tortured knee had stiffened during their flight leaving him barely able to sustain his own weight.

It took a great deal of patience from Nataku and no small amount of brute force to get the russet haired noble situated in the cave. Treize was barely conscious by his time. His head lolled loosely to one side and he fought to keep his eyes open. "We are safe now. You can let go. Rest while you can." WuFei soothed. Treize was only too grateful to comply and it took only moments for him to succumb to oblivion.

WuFei knelt next to the cold ash left by their previous visit. It took barely a thought to kindle it anew. It was so easy it frightened him and he nearly doused it for fear of loosing control again, but his need was too strong. He held a burning brand close so he could get a true assessment of the damage done. It did not look good. His foot was twisted to the outside at a slightly unnatural angle and the knee joint was swollen, deeply purpled with bruising. WuFei regretted not having access to the many medicinal plants of his homeland. But all was not alien here. He would have to make do with what was a hand.

-----------------

"Here Treize." WuFei gently nudged the man awake from where he lay on a bedroll against the wall of the cave. "Drink this." He held out cup of steaming liquid.

"What is it?" The noble asked sniffing the bitter brew.

"My people call it _Bailiupi tiquwu_ from the bark of a tree by the river. It is good for pain and diminishes fever and swelling."

Treize took a tentative sip and grimaced. "Willow bark, Sally uses it also. It is disgusting."

"Yes I know."

"Will I loose the leg? Treize looked incredibly weary as he voiced the question.

"No. I do not believe the injury is quite that serious. I took advantage of your lack of consciousness to drain some of the fluid off the knee. The swelling was hindering the energy flow but I believe I acted in time to prevent further damage. There is a small fracture in the bone but nothing like your previous injury. I reset the break and it is securely bound and splinted. I dare say it will heal properly but it will take some weeks to do so. Were you in my country, you would be treated with Mu Gua or Niu Xi to help it along but I do not think either plant grows here." WuFei shook his head regretfully, tendrils of ebony framing his face softening his angular features.

It was rare to see the young dragon's hair free of its severe tail. Treize could only think of three times he had done so. The first was when he accepted the young man's challenge and they fought together. The second was when he and the others acted as entertainment for Dorothy and her Suitors. This was the third. "You should wear your hair down more often." Treize observed. "It suits you."

"That…would not be prudent." WuFei said in little more than a whisper, self-consciously gathering the strands in one hand.

"Why?" Treize frowned.

"Do you feel up to rolling over?" WuFei tried to change the subject, "The tea will help with the pain but I believe I can do a bit more through massage and pressure points."

Treize slipped off his tunic but needed the boy's help to lie flat on his belly without jarring his leg. The noble had been subjected to some of the best masseurs in Rome. He had gone to take the waters in various places renown for their healing; He had found no relief from his previous leg injury. Yet with a few minutes of deep tissue massage and a few well places jabs the young man from the silk lands had been able to do what none other could, and now he began wielding his magic again. Treize let out a deep sigh as a he felt the throbbing in his leg ease and the tension slowly drain out of him. But he wasn't about to let WuFei distract him so easily.

"Prudent is a very strange word choice given the subject, dragon. This may not be your native tongue but I have found you never use words carelessly. Please tell me."

"You didn't see the valley. The place where we fished, I destroyed it, there is nothing but ash." Fists clenched.

"And how is that your fault?" Treize asked gently.

WuFei returned to kneading his shoulders and back. "The elders trained me to practice _discipline_." He punctuated the word with a firm pressure that made Treize's spine pop back into alignment. "My hair is a symbol of the seal they placed when I was but a boy. Being here, so far away from my home and the guardians of my people it didn't seem necessary. I was arrogant. I thought I could disregard the elder's warnings." The boy's hands felt soothingly warm against Treize's lower back. "I became reckless and when I got angry the Shenlong was loosed…I couldn't stop. I didn't want to. My emotion fed the flames. " WuFei brought a hand to his own chest touching the tattoo that marked him. It felt warm, hot actually, just as it had when the elders first given it to him.

"So you share the gift of the fire serpent?"

"In my country Dragons are creatures of the waters. They protect the rivers and seed the clouds with rain. The elders thought having the Shenlong tied to me would help quench the fire with in. Now I fear my guardian has left me and I have become danger to those around me. I suggest you rid yourself of me at the earliest opportunity.

"Not going to happen, my dear dragon. We are all unique and in that we can find our own strength. You are, not now or ever shall be left to fend for your self. You are a part of us and nothing will change that. I am quite stubborn when I wish to be and that is fact. Now I will hear no more self recrimination! I swear you are as bad as Zechs. The only thing for which I see fit to blame, you is for dragging my pathetic self away from my enemies and saving my life. And as to the fire, what ever its cause, it was the diversion that let us get away. The vale will heal; it is part of the natural way of things. And apparently so will I. Thanks to you. Treize nodded then frowned. "Unfortunately your skills are about to be needed once more. Epyon carries two and I suspect Heero is hurt worse than I am."

Chapter 37 notes

In traditional Chinese medicine, injuries such as Treize's fall into two categories. In one,—the tendon and muscle are usually overstretched and hurt. This kind of injury will cause motion problems: the body has limited motion and the person will experience pain. Acupuncture and acupressure can help. With knee injuries, in general, sometimes just one or two good treatments can bring about an immediate change, and without surgery. This is the technique WuFei used formerly to bring his master relief.

Although many produces traveled from China to Rome across the Silk Road it does not appear medicinal plants were among if they had been there is no chance the plants WuFei mentioned would have been found half way up the alps. But the white willow would have been native to both places and its medicinal properties were known throughout the ancient world. The Bark is an analgesic, anodyne, anti-inflammatory, antiseptic, diaphoretic, and fever reducer. It is an effective pain killer and fever reducer but without a drug's side effects. White Willow Bark can also be used externally for wounds and skin irritations. Even today, Aspirin is a synthetic derivative of white willow bark

Many people wrongly belief that Traditional Chinese medicine does not treat broken bones and trauma. Chinese medicine does postulate that that everything that happens on the outside of the body in terms of damage or injury reflects an imbalance on the inside. In the case of knee difficulties, the knees represent the Kidney (they are associated with this organ, according to Five-Element theory). taken to extremes one assumes if you hurt your knee, treat the kidney. There are no accidents. That part is vulnerable for a reason. For instance, a person with a healthy body might fall, but they would never get an injury. They would take measures to strengthen the kidney yes, but they would also splint the leg do something for the pain and when the time was right use physical therapy to return full use.

When dealing with injuries during the early stage of healing herbal remedies are selected for their ability to quicken the blood and dispel stasis, move the qi and stop pain, possibly assisted by clearing heat and dispersing swelling. During the middle stage, Chinese remedies are commonly chosen which supplement the kidneys and strengthen the bones they quicken the blood and dispel stasis. During the late stage, the focus is on supplementing and boosting the qi and blood, soothing the sinews and quickening the network vessels. One study I found suggests that traditional herbal therapies, acupuncture, passive and active motion, and electro-magnetic therapies can help fractured bones knit in 2/3 the time as standard Western medical care. Thankfully I've never broken a bone so this is purely theoretical.

In ancient china there was a well developed system of treating 'battle damage' which pretty much describes his current injury. Trauma fracture or torn ligaments results in both pain and instability of the knee joint. In ancient china, nearly all trauma specialists were also masters of the martial arts. Likewise experts in Wushu and Kungfu, were also good at orthopedics. The reason for this phenomenon is quite simple, those who fight are more likely to get hurt and once injured had to learn how to cure themselves, or had to consult doctors from time to time. In this process, so they become familiar with various healing and recovering methods of physical injuries. An orthopedician must also have a strong body, or he cannot have the strength to pull apart dislocated bones and set them into the right place. Due to this cause-and-effect relationship between the two, it was common that in the past, many Wushu practitioners were also medical experts.

Even today, we can still see that traumatology in Chinese medical sciences is deeply influenced by techniques in martial arts. For instance, the "single finger Buddhist massage" treatment originated from "single finger Buddhist Qigong vital-point attack" technique in Kungfu. Quite a number of Kungfu techniques and actions are also applied to the medical method to set a broken bone and to massage treatment..


	37. Fog of dreams

Chapter 38 Fog of dreams

The dark of night gave way to a gray morning; the fog was still heavy, swirling and writhing, making everything seem surreal. Trowa could barely make out the silver wolf slipping through mist. At first he thought he imagined the creature. Not unsurprising given the general atmosphere paired with Epion's steady gate lulling him into a strange sort of somnolence. He felt like he was dreaming…he wished he was dreaming. Only the weight of Heero's limp body in his arms connected him to the reality of the previous night. Trowa couldn't be sure how long they had been riding and wasn't entirely sure of the way. Still he trusted the animal would lead him to the others and that trust was what gave him the strength to continue.

Heero hadn't awoken. His head lolled against Trowa's shoulder. They were pressed chest to chest of necessity; One, because Epion had not been fitted to ride double, and two because it was difficult to hold the other youth given the dire burns across his back and shoulders. Much of Heero's tunic had been burned away leaving only tiny strips across his shoulders. The skin too was badly blistered and raw. Trowa had only taken the barest glimpse of the damage once it had begun getting light. His mind shied away from the memory.

Every ounce of concentration was devoted to the feel the other slave's heart beating in concert with his own and the labored breaths against the side of his neck that told him the other was amazingly still alive. Trowa prayed it would continue. Sending silent entreaties to every god he knew up to and including the nameless one. Quatre had identified the Seraph creature Duo had seen with Heero as His beast of healing after all. Not death. It had protected the gladiator in the past. Why not now? He wondered. "Please." He whispered past the lump in his throat, "Please. Don't take him. Don't let him suffer. But don't take him. We need you Heero. Please stay." His arms cradled Heero's sides as gently as possible but his hands remained white knuckled on the reigns.

-------------

"Here, over here, let me see him." WuFei beckoned emerging from the mist-shrouded tree line.

"He's hurt." Trowa managed though his voice sounded hollow.

"Yes I know." WuFei nodded steeling himself for the worst. If he had thought it had been difficult getting Treize off Nataku without further injury this was even more so. It was good the gladiator remained unconscious for even the slightest movement would have caused him immense pain. WuFei drew his breath through clenched teeth when he surveyed the extent of his injuries. The burns of course, bruised flesh, cracked ribs, broken collarbone and concussion.

Trowa hastily gathered a sizable pile of pine needles and covered it with whatever cloth remained in the saddlebags that had been left with Epion and Nataku. The result was a rather fragrant nest for their injured companion. WuFei lay Heero in it carefully as if he were made of spun glass. "I've never had to heal anything on this scale." The eastern youth admitted softly. "I'm not sure I can." WuFei had already collected a good supply of aloe leaves and had anointed the badly damaged skin four times already. He had even used his skills to block as many pain receptors as he could without risk of paralisis. The former temple slave was quickly reaching his limit of healing techniques and his options along with it.

"You can do it Fei, I have faith in you. Just do your best." Treize encouraged, scratching the wolf's head resting in his lap. "But I don't think you will be working alone. I keep thinking of the strange beings Duo told us about and I suspect there is more going on than we know. Heero can heal, I've seen it" He was still unconscious but his eyelids were not completely closed. If the braided seer had been present he wouldn't have known what to make of the luminescent rainbows that swirled in their companions eyes, but Treize was correct. There were forces at work that were beyond understanding.

"I don't know how anything can fix this." Trowa looked dejected as he pointed to the worst places on Heero's exposed back. It was purpled and swelling, Moisture oozed from the cracks; It was disgusting, macabre even…but slowly as they watched it began to change.

The cracks split wider and the edges began to peel back sloughing off like a serpent shedding its skin. Even the least damaged areas of skin glistened wetly like scales before smoothing to once more resemble human flesh. The transformation was slow, painstakingly so and would likely take some days to regenerate fully. But it was a sign of promise that gave them hope.

"Amazing." WuFei breathed. "When I traveled with Master Ron, part of his duties as ambassador was to collect and record stories from the farthest reaches of the eastern kingdom and bring word of them back to the Emperor in Chang'an. I became his assistant because of my gift for languages. That is how I came to know of the people of Wō isle. Heero's looks led me to suspect he came from that place, and there were stories of children born with blue-eyes, but I never dreamed he could be one of the _fumetsu. _That is to say Immortals. In truth I did not believe they existed. It looks like I was wrong."

---------------

"Honored elder, why can I not play with the other children? Why must I always be apart?" the memory was old and crusted over with time. The mind voice was tremulous, as the child he once had been.

"You are not like them Yuy." The elder said as he took the earthen wear jug and poured water into a shallow dish. "Look in there and tell me what you see." The man said. "How are you different?"

He obeyed as he always had. "My eyes are light, like the sky and the sea. My hair is light also like the bark of a tree."

"It is so. None have been born with your coloring since my grandfather's grandfather was the chief of our people. But here you are. And so it falls to me to do what must be done. When the summer sun reaches its zenith you will be five years old. I will take you out in my boat; far out, past the great isle. We must venture further than waters where the fishermen ply their nets. Far out, beyond even the sight of land, that is the place where the _Yamata no Orochi_ lives. This is what must be done to all those born as you are. And once we reach that place we will wait. We will wait with the wind and the waves and it may be that the giant serpent will come to test you."

"How will it test me Dafu?" He asked uncertainly.

"The serpent will rise out of the water and gaze into your unnatural blue eyes. You must not show fear or weakness. You can not look away for even an instant. The _Orochi_ will delve deep into your soul and judge you. I have tried to keep your heart and mind pure. I have tried to make you brave and strong. Since the time my woman died to give you life I have done my best to train you for this day. It may be that the great serpent will find you worthy and breathe on you the gift of the _fumetsu_ making you the greatest of us all. It may find you lacking and devour you entirely. I can not say. But this is what must be done. If the blue-eyes is not given at this time, in this manner, the _Yamata no Orochi_ will come to the islands and consume us all. It has been so since the beginning of time."

"If…If the storm god finds me worthy. And lets us live. Can I …can I call you father?"

The old man's face broke into a tearful smile and his voice was heavy with emotion when he replied, "Yes, Yuy, If you survive your ordeal you will have a name, not just that of our clan. Then you may call me father, and I will call you son. We will be family. And if you die none will mourn the necessity as much as I."

"Thank you Elder." He bowed. And the memory swirled away as another one took its place.

The wind howled in his ears. The rain fell hissing into the surging sea. He clung on, to what he didn't know. He was so tired he felt himself slipping he imagined coils constricting tightly, lifting him up frm underneath, compressing his chest, forcing him to take in half liquid gasps of air. His lungs ached and spots swam before his eyes. He swam in the inky blackness. He struggled and fought pushed to the utter edge of exhaustion. He was ready to die. He was ready to die if it meant the storm would spare the rest of his people, but he didn't think it would hurt quite this much. "I'm sorry Dafu." He cried but there was no answer.

There was a sound a strange sound that penetrated the darkness with annoying persistence. It overwhelmed the sound of wind and wave and stole the peace that stretched out just beyond his grasp. It irritated and annoyed him and he wanted nothing more than for it to stop. To let him go. Yet the shrill clarion continued, it sounded like "HEEEEEERRRROOOOO!"

--------------

"Shut up Onna!" WuFei growled under his breath. "Just shut up already. We aren't here. No one is here, just give up and go away."

"Fei…fei, I think he is waking up." Trowa sounded breathless with anticipation.

The yelling coming from somewhere on the trail below resounded off the surrounding peeks and made blood run cold. "COME KILLLLL MEEE!"

"_Omae o korosu_." (I will kill you) the voice was soft as dry leaves rustling in the wind. The injured gladiator's hand spasmed clenching toward the place a sword hilt ought to have been, but he was unaccountably unarmed. One blade had gone with Duo and the other had been left at the base of the tree he had been flung into by the explosion. Trowa had regretted not being able to retrieve it but his companion's life had been more important than a simple blade.

"HEEEEEERRRRRROOOOOO!" the echoes were near deafening and likely to trigger a rockslide on the unsteady slopes.

"I'll do it." WuFei reached out to still the questing hand and leveraged himself to his feet. "I don't make it a practice to kill bleeding hearts or women, but I may make an exception for that one." He drew his own sword glad it had still been securely tethered to Nataku's saddle when he and Treize had made their escape.

"It is probably a trap." Trowa pointed out. "I'll go with you."

"Do not harm her, she is Zechs sister." Treize sighed, his noble face showing the strain of his injured leg, paired with the newly acquired splitting headache they shared "I do not know why she has sided with our enemies, but She is important to her people, as Zechs is to ours. Tread carefully."

"No promises." WuFei scowled unhappily and stalked out with Trowa at his heels.

Treize scrunched down as much as he could without disturbing his broken leg, his fingers extended to touch Heero's hand "It will be alright." He told the badly injured youth. "You are healing nicely. I wish I had your abilities. My knee hurts like Hades. I didn't want to tell WuFei. He is frazzled enough as it is, but between you and me, I am dead tired of feeling like an invalid, especially when they get to go out and knock some heads. How many barbarians do you think are lying in wait for them? Five…six? I should know. Unfortunately, that insufferable Quince Barton did me more harm than he anticipated."

There was no sign the injured gladiator heard, much less understood his words but Treize continued speaking in soft soothing tones. "If you haven't guessed by now, I'm just as unique as the rest of you. I can make others know my thoughts and wishes without the need for speech. It is easier with animals, especially those trust me. Sometimes they even let me see through their eyes. When I commanded the legion I used me talents to gain tactical advantage more than once. I could send my scouts in all directions and know almost instantly if there was trouble and send aid. My injury put an end to that though. I simply couldn't focus past the pain. I think you understand what I mean. Even with your abilities, or perhaps because of them, I expect you are no stranger to pain."

Treize smoothed down Heero's sweat slicked hair and tried to stretch his awareness into the boy's barely conscious mind. He braced himself fearful of finding Heero had suffered brain damage from his ordeal. Treize could barely feel the blurry consciousness slide away but caught a hint of suspicion radiating from the injured slave.

"Before you think to ask, I haven't tried to manipulate any of you in any way. When I bought you I had not the ability because of my injury. Influencing people is much more difficult than animals and even if I had been able, I would not have done such a thing. I have never forced my will on anyone, man nor beast. They choose to aid me, or not. I will not push the issue. After WuFei brought me relief my abilities slowly returned. The only time I used them on any of you was to see if I was able to help Trowa when he was ill. You five are part of my pack, just as Zechs is, and I have promised to do what ever it takes to protect my own.

Now, though, thanks Barton, I find my self lame once more and ability severely curtailed. I had to physically touch Argent for him to know my mind. Bryn is with Mi'lord and the others but thanks to the pain I haven been able to check on them. I heard her howl not long ago, they aren't far. Argent will guide them to WuFei and Trowa instead of bringing them straight here. I would have liked to send the eagle to look over the situation but I have neither the strength nor the range for that at present. In fact, even sitting this close, I can't be sure that you hear me. WuFei seems to think I will recover and that gives me hope. But in the meantime, I can't help feeling frustrated.

------------------------

It was hard to believe the girl making her way up the slope was the same one that had defiantly challenged them in their camp by the river. The so called 'queen of the world' was grubby and disheveled. Her yellow gold hair was tangled and unkempt. The berry red gown she wore was tattered and stained with blood, mud and ash. Her face and arms looked as if she had forcibly thrashed her way through a briar bush and tears ran down her ruddy cheeks. Her breath was labored and she stumbled about almost drunkenly. One ankle collapsed sending her tumbling back down the steep incline in a shower of loose gravel.

She sat where she fell, threw back her head and renewed her pitiful cry, "Heero Come kill me!" her voice quavered and the expression on her tear streaked face revealed that she meant the words with all her heart. She inclined her head, listening but there was no reply save distant echoes of her own voice. Her shoulders slumped dejectedly. Then with resignation, she struggled unsteadily to her feet and tried to make her way up the slope once more.

"I've scouted the whole area. It looks like she is alone." Trowa whispered to WuFei who was crouched behind some bushes.

"Why is she trying to get up that way?" the dark-eyed slave whispered back. "The incline is not so steep over there, and it leads directly to the path.

"You are distracted by what she is doing and you aren't watching her." Trowa pointed out. "Ignore everything else and just watch her hands."

"What? Why?" WuFei frowned but did as the other slave suggested. His eyes widened in surprise. "She's blind!" He breathed.

"Yes, I remember Heero had her by the arm and pulled her around. He was closer to the explosion and you saw what it did to his back. I expect she took the blast full in the face. If we had killed her, she would have become a ledged inspiring the people, But injured as she was, it is if the gods turned against her. There were too many witnesses. She is useless to them now."

"So they abandoned her on the mountain? That's a terrible injustice!" WuFei scowled.

"That's Barton." Trowa sighed. "At any rate, it is our fault. She's our responsibility now even if she wasn't Zechs sister. With any luck the blindness won't be permanent. And as I understand it she is this Deorlind we've come looking for. How do you think we should approach her?"

"You re asking _ME_?" WuFei raised an eyebrow, nonplussed.

Chapter 38 notes

**TCM and Burns** People who have sustained extensive burns experience a considerable amount of pain and suffering and are at risk for infection. But many of these people have been helped through ancient Chinese medicine to treat burns used alongside modern treatment approaches. It has been found that acupuncture as an ancient Chinese medicine for burns helps to release endogenous opioid-peptides in the body. These substances are actually natural pain killers that the body produces on its own. With acupuncture, these substances are increased so that the pain is reduced naturally. It also helps to release endorphins into the body, which are also natural pain killers. Both of these substances help to naturally reduce the pain. There are also burn creams that are on the market, produced according to ancient Chinese medicine's specifications for burns. These creams help to remove the heat from the burn and relieve the pain. In addition it promotes tissue growth, reduces swelling and blistering. It even helps reduce scarring. Aloe, Jojoba, Imperatoria, olive and hyssop are plants known for their medicinal value that are native to both the alps and china. These five are especially noted for their ability to soothe and heal damaged skin. So I suspect WuFei may have been able to make a cream able to help with Treize's bruises as well as Heero's burns and dry skin.

**Yamata no Orochi** ("8-branched giant snake") or **_Orochi_**, translated as the **Eight-Forked Serpent** in English, is a legendary 8-headed and 8-tailed Japanese dragon that was slain by the Shinto storm-god Susanoo. Polycephalic or multi-headed animals are rare in biology but common in mythology and heraldry. Multi-headed dragons, like the 8-headed _Orochi_ and 3-headed _Trisiras_ above, are a common motif in comparative mythology. For instance, multi-headed dragons in Greek mythology include the wind-god Typhon who had several polycephalic offspring, including the 9-headed Lernaean Hydra and the Ladon. The seven-headed dragon is found also in the Scottish dragon-myth, and the legends of Cambodia, India, Persia, Western Asia, East Africa, and the Mediterranean area."

The Orochi legends are recorded in two ancient texts about Japanese mythology and history that date to 680 AD. According to both versions of the myth, The storm god Susanoo was expelled from Heaven for tricking his sister Amaterasu the sun-goddess. While in exile he meets two "Earthly Deities" who are weeping because they were forced to give the _Orochi_ one of their daughters every year for seven years, and now they must sacrifice their eighth, Kushi-inada-hime (wondrous rice-field princess" Susanoo transforms the girl into a _kushi _"comb" for safekeeping and goes off to deal with the monster. He makes a trap of fences and gates and bates it with refined liquor. The creature comes gets drunk and falls asleep then Susanoo is able to kill it. In my mythos I combine the storm god and the great serpent who facets of the same being while retaining the sacrificial element. Snakes are linked with healing and immortality in many cultures because of the way they shed their skin and so I used that image here. "_Fumetsu_" is Japanese for immortal, undying and indestructible. It seemed a proper gift for our Heero, though he might want to steer clear of Alcohol just to be on the safe side.

**Flash blindness** is visual impairment during and following exposure to a light flash of extremely high intensity.[ It may last for a few seconds to a few minutes or lead to permanent blindness. It is caused by bleaching (oversaturation) of the retinal pigment. In daylight the eye's pupil constricts, thus reducing the amount of light entering after a flash. At night, the dark-adapted pupil is wide open so flash blindness has a greater effect and lasts for a longer time. It is unclear whether pain is directly associated with flash blindness. Reaction to flash blindness can be discomforting and disorienting. The retina has no pain receptors, so reports of pain may be due to more psychological reactions.


	38. One Step at a Time

Chapter 39 One Step at a Time

A twig snapped and she spun to face the sound. "Who is there?" She asked, "Heero?"

"No he is not able to meet you. We are his companions; we will take you to him." The voice was somewhat pensive and possessed an odd foreign lilt she had never heard before. The voice sounded calm, placating but She could not forget these were the ones responsible for destroying her family and shattering her world.

"I do not trust you." Her blinded eyes narrowed and She defiantly drew the roman short sword from her belt pointing it in the speaker's direction. The foreign blade felt unwieldy in her hands. As the shield of peace she had no need for martial training. As the people's talisman, Armūs never sent her out with out an armed escort. But all that changed in a sudden flash of brilliance followed by impenetrable darkness. "I will wait for Heero."

"Chang Look, that is Heero's blade. The one I had to leave behind. I am sure of it " A second voice confirmed, a voice she had heard only once but recognized none the less.

"I know you," she growled awkwardly swinging the blade in the direction of the second speaker. "You are the one who turned the storm giant against me. This is all your fault!" she hissed then charged at him. The youth must be very agile on his feet because he apparently side stepped and caught her wrist sending the blade spinning away.

"It was not my intension to harm you. That is not why we came." The soft voice explained. "Lightning is a wild thing. I would not have called it if I thought there was another way. But Quince Barton is faithless. Even among his own kin he is known to carry an olive branch in one hand and a knife in the other. I have no doubt he would have had your people kill mine had I not acted. I Do you deny it?"

She frowned, knowing the stranger spoke truth. Armūs Strong-arm would do what ever it took to forge a strong and lasting peace for their people and, as much as she despised the fact, he sometimes needed people like Barton. She would say the man was an attack dog but dogs are loyal and only rarely attack those who feed them. It appeared even Romans knew it wasn't safe to trust Romans; Which brought her back to the matter at hand, "You and your lame wolf-general, have no right on our side of the mountains. I will not play the shield any longer. The pact with our people lies dead with the rest of my kin. Your commander deserves to die too for his crimes. I wish I could see it done." See it? A simple turn of phrase that now meant more than she had intended. She scowled and set her teeth on edge, wrestling anew with the reality of her darkened world. Her reason for living was stripped along with her eyesight but she would not meekly accept her condition. Only the bold could win a place in the afterlife and she _would_ see her family again. Her fists clenched. "I will make your Hero honor his promise and his blade will bridge my way to Asgard." she announced matter-of-factly.

Even now she could sense the young man's presence. It called to her like a beacon offering her the death she longed for. It was her gift. All she needed was an image and a name and she could find anything. The storm lord had been the one who had given her the youth's name, shouting a warning to his friend. And Heero's image was indelibly etched in her mind having been last thing she had seen before the flash that extinguished the lantern of her eyes. It came as no surprise her connection with Heero was the strongest she had ever felt there was destiny in it.

When Armūs had taken her from Governor Varsis' household it had seemed her life was over. Then the Cherusci Prince had explained how her guardian had been trying to tax the people of Germania into oblivion, destroying their way of life. Relena knew her people were a proud race and would sooner die than bow beneath the yoke of a tyrant. They had been lied to. Her father had known but refused to act because he believed the peace was more important. He was willing to sacrifice for it. They were not.

She had wept bitterly upon learning how he her brother languished as a slave before being publically executed before jeering crowds. The Sea king stood by his vision of the future and then died crushed under the weight of it. It was clear the Roman's saw no value in 'barbarians honor' and when the great Kushrenada was injured in battle his elite soldier's exacted revenge, Not on the rebellious tribes who had been responsible, but any and all Northmen within the area. Even allies and those bound by treaty were put to the sword. Their general was wounded, so what. That happens in battle.

If the Romans had demanded a blood price of the Vandi who ambushed them, as high king, her father would have seen that the rebels paid it in full. But the traitorous Romans killed him instead. Her fists bunched in anger and frustration. When the high king and his retainers were found dead Prince Strong-Arm had been within his right to summon the tribes. From what she remembered of him, her father would not have wanted a blood feud called in his name. But the people were angry, and rightly so. It seemed the Emperor of rome would not be satisfied until her people were stripped of their dignity made little more than roman slaves. That was not the sort of peace their treaty was forged to keep.

Betrayal reaps betrayal and Armus would see the Roman's paid in full measure. The people came together because of her, the sole surviving Peace-crafter, the living embodiment of the treaty her father forged. Arminius spoke to the people and described all he had seen and heard serving in the legion. They needed to stand united if they hoped to defeat the might of Rome. The gods were with them. They would stand united in victory. She had felt proud to be a part of that. And hearing her name on the people's lips as they marched into battle had been…thrilling…But who was she now? Bereft of sight she was useless, a burden to the people who looked up to her. The only hope she had of ever seeing her loved ones again lay on the point of her enemy's sword. And she _would_ find Heero. She sensed these strangers would try to prevent her from joining her family in Freja's field, but Heero…had promised. And from the look in his eye she had seen he had meant to carry out that promise. "It is my time to die." She growled.

"Your brother would not permit it. And we would not give him cause to despair." The foreign voice, Chang, declared.

Though sightless, she saw red, "Don't you DARE mention him! You have no right! You call my people barbarians! We offer honorable death to our foes we respect their skill. We are not like you; we do not toy with them for sport!" Anger fueled her gift. She had a name for her opponent 'Chang' the storm lord had given it to her not knowing what she could do with such knowledge. She focused her mind and reached out trying to get a sense of his location. She spun and whirled slipping free of the hands that sought to restrain her. Her mental impression of 'Chang' was not as strong as that of Heero but he was closer so it was enough. She lunged.

He was quick it was difficult to get a true read on him. His energy seemed to flow around her like water or more appropriately like the dancing flame. But she was both determined and persistent stepping sideways and twisting to the left and managed to get a hold of his clothing then fell to kicking and scratching, tearing at hair like a wild cat.

"Enough of this!" Chang sounded contemptuous and that only infuriated her more. The arms of the lightning wielder tightened around her from behind, pinning her arms to her sides.

"Calm down." Chang growled. "Your fight is ended. You are coming with us."

"I am not going anywhere with you!" She struggled in the young man's iron grip, "You have to kill me!"

"I do not _have_ to do anything." the soft spoken storm lord whispered close by her ear. "And it doesn't appear you have much choice in the matter."

There was the sound of ripping cloth. "Since you seem determined to fight us every step of the way I am going to bind your wrists." Chang explained, "Next am going to bind your eyes. I know something of healing, and it may be that your sight will return in time, but until then they must be protected." The touch was soft and so was the cloth she felt secured over her sightless eyes. But she did not thank him for the kindness, if her throat wasn't so parched that her tongue tasted like ash she likely would have spat at him. As it was she tried to bite.

"Now, now, none of that," The lightning wielder chided, "You may be eager to die but at present you are our responsibility. You are going to have to trust us."

"I will do no such thing!" She ducked and twisted managing to slip loose and ran, calling at the top of her lungs, "Heero I'm here! You promised to kill me!"

"I said enough woman!" Chang tackled her to the ground this time. "You try that again and I will gag you as well! You want to go to Heero, that is where were going. but I tell you now he is in no condition to kill anyone and the general you are so eager to see die has requested we preserve your life. So stop trying our patience!"

"What is going on here!" A new voice called. She had been so focused on fighting she hadn't heard the approach of hoof-beats. "WuFei, Trowa, what are you doing!"

"You are here, thank the gods!" Chang sounded exasperated "Maybe you can talk sense to this harridan! She is our reason for coming isn't she? Perhaps if you can make her stop fighting us, we can all go home!"

"Home," The lightning lord whispered in surprise as if he never expected his companion to voice the word.

Chang didn't seem to notice and continued his rant. "I must admit I can see why you compare her to a shield…being so hard headed. Don't just sit there…"

She got the impression of a big man dismounting from horse and coming toward her. "Relenǽ _Dēorlinde_," the newcomer clearly recognized her, Knew her birth name. The thought that one of her people would side with the roman scourge left a knot in her stomach.

"Who are you!" she challenged, forgetting her current condition and sounding as if she were once again the queen of the world. No has the right to address her with such familiarity!

"Lenǽ it's I, Seax." the voice softened and she felt a hand caress the hair from her unseeing eyes.

If her wrists weren't bound she would have swatted the hand away. "You LIE! The sea king's sword was blunted, broken and buried long ago. The MereKāser prince is dead."

"No, no…I am not dead." Strong arms closed around her, and she was pulled against a chest much broader than that of the wiry lightning lord. "All Armūs has told you is false, I have just come from the hall of our _Spear-neighbor_ (_Hende-Gār_) Otto explained the situation to me. I tell you what I told him. I survived the legion, I survived the arena, I even survived Barton's attempt to poison me. We have had people searching for you since you were taken but had no news until several months ago and I only learned of…father…yesterday." There was a thickness to his voice that spoke of emotion but she knew such things could be faked, she grit her teeth but let him continue.

"They sent an assassin to prevent our coming after you. I expect it was one of Barton's men if not Quince, than his brother Dekim, that family has proven themselves my enemy time and again. The assassin was subdued before he got anywhere near me. My friend Treize has protected me from all harm and kept the treaty intact after his uncle General Catalonia, was killed in battle. So I am very much alive. Please…simmer down?" She felt again like a small child swept up in his arms, her feet easily leaving the ground. She wanted to believe, wanted to accept the fantastic tale he spun. The soft-spoken stranger mounted his horse with her still in his arms and settled her more on his lap than the roman style saddle. She hadn't the strength to struggle any more but she wanted to make it clear she wasn't taken in by his lies, "I'd almost rather believe him dead, than willing side with traitors." She breathed the words into his chest.

That hurt him, it was a gut reaction. She felt his body stiffened he could not even respond to the accusation. "Do not believe it." the whisper was so quiet she was not entirely sure she had heard it. There was a forced casualness in his voice when he turned to his companions and said "Come now, WuFei is correct. We have what we came for, let's collect the others and be on our way."

"It won't be so easy; Treize and Heero are both injured. I'm sorry Mi'lord I did try to keep them safe."

"It is all right dragon, I don't blame you. Trouble comes as it will and I've had my fair share."

"As I see it you've just got yourself a whole armload more of it too." The young lightning lord's words were quiet and faraway as fatigue overwhelmed her and consciousness fled.

----------------------

"She is utterly spent; physically, emotionally, this ordeal has cost her. I'd say she won't wake until tomorrow at the earliest." Quatre shook his head having just returned from checking on the princess that lay curled on a bed roll in the back of the cave. "She must be unbelievably persistent to have lasted as long as she did, blinded, alone on the mountain. In her place I doubt I could have done it."

"She has always had a bit of the seers' gift. If she can visualize something in her mind and name it, she usually finds it. I would be out stalking the roebuck and she, just a tiny thing would come hurtling out of the wood, scare off my prey, and to latch on to my leg so I couldn't go after it. It was infuriating. The child hated the idea of my killing anything, even brought me rabbit food by the chubby little fistful." The Prince of the Rus recounted with a slight smile on his lips. "I expect the link she made with Heero was serving as her guide where physical sight was unable to. It was the only thing that kept her going; poor girl. Do you think her eyes are darkened forever?" Zechs asked tossing a few more branches into the fire.

"I can't say. With time and proper treatment her vision might return…it may not. Sally may be able to tell you more. " WuFei sighed, "It is our fault, Trowa's lightning and my flash powder…I should not have used my curse at all, let alone to lock away that much fire. When it was loosed it was very angry…so was I, which didn't help at all."

The green eyed youth ducked his head in agreement, "Heero was hurt so badly…I couldn't do anything to help him. And the fire and smoke…darkness…mist…our fault." Trowa shivered. "We were dabbling with powers we ought not."

"Enough Boys," Treize used a stout branch as a crutch to hobble over to the others and sat by the fire. "No regrets for saving our lives. I have spoken to WuFei of this before and I will say the same you Trowa. Heero and I would both be dead now had you not acted. Yes we were injured but it would have been much worse had you not carried us to safety. It was a very strange night one I as not eager to see repeated. But I'll not have you disparage that which makes you unique. I have never put much stock in fate and the transient will of the gods. But I am beginning to suspect that we have been brought together for some reason. There is some force moving in this world and for what ever reason, it seems we are meant to be together. Duo has been telling me that, even as far away as he was, he was aware of the-- what did you call it? 'Weirdness,' that was it, 'seriously high weirdness' in the valley. Do you care to tell the others what you saw?"

Duo closed his eyes, a wistful smile on his impish face, "It was a great lion, with four faces. I couldn't see them because it was turned away from me. But it looked like the thing that was holding back the crawlies that were after Tro when he was ill 'sept a whole boatload bigger and more solid looking than anything but what took Solo. Its body was black as the void and strewn with stars. Fire and smoke spread where each paw touched earth. Clouds cascaded from its mane and the wings on its heels made them boil and churn. The creature had three tails like serpents and each time they lashed, lightning struck. It was the without a doubt the largest…thing I've ever seen."

"Cheribi," Quatra supplied the name. "They act as the chariot of Allah. Figures of them crown the mercy-seat of the Arc of the Covenant; The truest symbol of the nameless god's power. When the people of Ibrāhīm (Abraham) left Egypt and approached the Jordan, the waters shrank away from the Arc's approach and the people walked on dry land. When they settled the Arc was kept in the holiest of holiest in their temple. I believe it was lost when the Kalim went into exile."

Heero stirred. A growl on his lips and a frown on his face as he fought his way past the lingering pain and stiffness and back to the world of the living. Cobalt eyes blinked open and blearily regarded his comrades. "Ow." He said.

"Heero, are you all right?" The little blonde inquired, sending a tendril of empathy in his direction to better assess the damage.

"How do you feel?" Trowa asked quietly from beneath his perpetual curtain of hair.

"Should have listened to you," The gruff gladiator stretched out one hand to touch Trowa's knee. "I did this to myself… If you are of a mind to self-destruct, I'd advise against it. It hurts like hell." Heero smiled.

It was the smile Trowa found so ludicrously amusing. Not the words. The others must have thought he was insane, laughing like he did, tears rolling down his cheeks. But they were tears of relief not mirth. Heero was going to be all right. Despite everything, Heero was going to be all right and they were going…home. He could not forget that WuFei, of all people, had come so far as to admit that _that_ was what the villa was. It had been so long since Trowa had a home the concept seemed almost foreign. But it certainly felt like they had a _real_ home to come back too. Warmth sprang up in his chest at the realization. He could hardly wait.

Chapter 39 notes

Freyja (sometimes anglicized as Freya) was depicted as a stunning blonde or strawberry blonde with blue eyes and often described as the fairest of all goddesses. She is primarily thought of as the goddess of love and beauty. She appreciated romantic music and stunning floral arrangements. But, very much like our Relina, there is more to this goddess than meets the eye. Freja's benevolence was invoked for happiness in love, help in childbirths, weather, harvest, wealth, magic, and prophecy. But that is not all, she was also the goddess of battle, war and death. It was her duty to usher souls into the afterlife.

As leader of the Valkyries, She had considerable power. It was her right to claim half the souls of the bravest warriors who died in battle as her own. She rode into battle atop a mighty battle boar or used a war chariot drawn by blue wild cats. She would gather up her chosen and take them to her hall, Fólkvangr, (Freja's field) There they would spend the after-life in perpetual rest and recreation. The other half of the heroic warriors, belonged to Odin, and would be gathered up by the Valkyries and taken to Valhalla where they would live in comfort and honor. Zechs has invoked Odin from time to time but I suspect Relena would look to Freja. Not simply because she could relate to the goddess. Only Odin and his chosen warriors enjoyed the hospitality of Valhalla. Any who had not died nobly in battle was counted as little more than a slave. Freja was more generous and the places at her table accomidated not only her warriors but their wives and loved ones as well. And that was where Relena's hope lay.

------------------------

A cherub pl cherubi(m), In modern English the word is usually used for what are strictly putti, baby or toddler angels in art. The form of angel mentioned several times in the Bible. Is quite different. The biblical prophet describes them as winged creatures, each having four faces: of a lion, an ox, an eagle, and a man. I used a bit of artistic license making this one more lion-like similar to a chimera. Similar to the broken statue in the Etruscan ruins, since it was Trowa who called it using the words of his people.

According to midrash literature two cherubim were placed by God at the entrance of paradise (Gen. iii. 24) It is thought they were called into being on the third day of creation, and therefore have no definite shape; appearing either as men or women, or as spirits or angelic beings (Genesis Rabbah xxi., end). Another midrash declares that God inspects the heavenly worlds while sitting on a cherub as his throne. When Pharaoh pursued Israel at the Red Sea God took one of them from the wheels of His throne and flew to the spot.

Quatre would have known of them from depictions copied from Solomon's Temple, from the Ark of the Covenant. Numbers 7:89 describes the voice of God as speaking to Moses from between the two Cherubim atop the Ark . The Qur'an mentions the arc of the covenant also saying "A Sign of authority is that there shall come to you the Ark of the covenant, with (an assurance) therein of security (Sakina) from your Lord, and the relics left by the family of Moses and the family of Aaron, carried by angels. In this is a symbol for you if ye indeed have faith. (Qur'an 2:248)

--------------------------


	39. Epilogue

Chapter 40 Epilogue

Treize lay in a make shift litter being drawn behind his Epion. It was undignified, not to mention uncomfortable. He cursed his injured leg almost daily. WuFei practiced his arts on him every evening and assured him he was healing as quickly as humanly possible, it just wasn't fast enough to suit Treize. It didn't help that Heero had been much worse off than he was and was practically back to normal. his collarbone was still healing and so his arm was bandaged and lashed to his chest, but he was sitting Astride Mercurios like a young demigod. Treize was admittedly a bit jealous.

Quatre was now confident in Sandrock's saddle, Trowa rode Veyate, WuFei and Nataku flowed together so naturally as to evoke images of the centaurs of old. Even Relena had her own mount! while he was dragged along like so much baggage. The noble sighed his eyes lingering on the proud barbarian princess perched behind Peacemillion's shoulders. Zechs was in control of his sister's mount but following behind Tallgeese made her feel more independent despite her infirmity. Treize had even less control since the boy's took turns acting as guide for Epyon as his litter bumped unceremoniously behind. There was always good natured bickering to see who would be afforded the 'honor' of accompanying him. A dubious honor Treize was sure.

He felt helpless and that made him act like a grump, as Duo put it. Still they didn't seem to mind and did their best to keep his spirits up. Duo chatted away, Quatre played the lyre, Trowa juggled pinecones…or occasionally knives. That had been something to see. WuFei spun tales of his homeland. And Heero, for the longest time Heero just rode quietly, sharpening his swords, grateful to have them both back in his possession. It was a companionable silence that made Treize feel…safe, Safe enough to actually rest and heal.

They had been working their way out of the mountains for the better part of a week and the trip wasn't getting any easier. He was eager to get back. Back to the villa, to Marie, and lady, to Sally, Hildi, Noin the villages under his care. He even missed Dorothy…a bit. Yes, it would be good to be home again; to sleep in his own bed and watch little Nanashi frisk among the roses. The thought brought a smile to his lips. Then his brows creased and a look of curiosity crossed his face. "Heero?" Treize asked, "Look just there and tell me what you see." He pointed.

Heero had to turn his horse to gaze back down the road they had come. "Dust?" he asked uncertainly "And I hear bells?"

"The northern livestock wear bells." Quatre supplied. "We saw them in fields around the hall.

"Its disturbance seems a bit large to be a local farmer driving beasts to market." Duo observed. And he was correct; a veritable cascade of humanity coalesced from the dust cloud, men, women, children, Treize had never seen the like and gaped in wonder at the barbarian mob.

"Otto?" Zechs asked in surprise at the smiling man seemingly master of the masses.

"_Angan_!" (delight/joy) the man cried out spurring his horse toward them, away from the press of his clan…Zechs clan. Treize realized. The blonde prince toughed his heals to Tallgeese's sides, drawing his sister's mount along with him to meet the man. They spoke, gesturing wildly as emotion rose and fell between them Zechs looped an arm around his sister's waist. She shrugged it off. Still not entirely sure he was who he claimed to be. That would take time she had been so young when Zechs had been given to Rome it was a wonder she even remembered having an elder brother.

Treize's heart fell. They want him back. He is their lord and they aren't going to let him go. Seeing the various kinds of livestock and ponderous carts he could only think one thing. They want to pay me off. He frowned knowing he could rob them of everything they owned, and it looked as if that was precisely what they had in mind, but it still wouldn't be enough. But these were Zechs people. And if this was what he wanted who was Treize to deny him? He sighed already feeling his companion's loss.

There was a strange look on Zechs face as he rode back. Treize knew his friend's mind well but was hard pressed to read him this time. Confusion, doubt, worry, hope, happiness, and regret all muddled together. Quatre looked wistful and rubbed his chest.

Treize raised a hand in greeting to the little group and prayed his voice wouldn't waver when he spoke. "It is all right if you want to stay." he told his long time friend carefully, before Zechs even got the chance to ask. "I'll miss you, but I'll understand."

"It…you'll…" Zechs looked stunned as of the words had taken him entirely off guard. He licking his lips as he fought to formulate thought. He took a deep breath held it for a few heartbeats then let t out in one great puff. "I have no intention of staying. They know that. I told them that in no uncertain terms at the hall. I did not expect they would take it into their heads to come with."

"Come with?" Treize was the one who looked stunned now.

"Oh Da, we haf our Strong-heart king and our lady shield, what more we need?" Otto grinned. "The Rus we are _nomaden (_nomads_)_, we haf' our roots in our heart," the big man pounded a fist to his chest "not in the ground. Water, rocks, soil, sun you can find these anyplace. You haf dem in the south no?"

"Y-yes, we have them." Treize answered tentatively wondering how the locals were going to take to having their village increase in size by nearly a quarter overnight.

"Da, there you go then!" the big man flung both hands in the air to punctuate the statement.

"There we go indeed." Treize echoed knowing it was going to be a _long _journey home. On the plus side, riding in a cart had to be more comfortable than a litter. And unless he was mistaken there was one with enough room to accommodate him…it even looked as if Heero's Wing and Trowa's Hethari were harnessed to it.

Chapter 40 notes

The earliest documented evidence of the Russ (Rhôs) is found in Greeks tests written be Nestor around 839 AD. They are first recorded as rulers of what we now know as Russia in 862. It seems there was a strong disagreement among several Northern Slavonic tribes (clan against clan) and they were unable to resolve it themselves. They requested a Varangian prince 'from across the sea' to come settle the dispute and rule over them. The prince's name was Ryurik and he was a representative of the tribe, known to the chronicle as ' Russ'. He agreed ' to reign and to own' in Novgorod. The two of his men Askold and Dir settled down in Kiev, which was the main center of trade and commerce. Twenty years later Prince Oleg united the Novgorod and Kiev lands forming the Russian state.

One of the issues debated is the origin of the name 'Russ'. The most debated one is the hypothesis of its Scandinavian origin. According to a number of researchers' opinion, the word 'Russ' originates from the root 'greblya', meaning - 'rowing'. The Scandinavians took the derivative from this root to name themselves as people rowing round the Eastern Baltic and carrying on a trade with the local population speaking Finnish. The latter used the word to denote the Scandinavians in the form of 'ruotsi'. Then the word was borrowed by the Eastern Slavs and was transformed into 'rus'. With settling of the Varangian princes and the prince's armed force in Kiev the name 'rus' was spread through the territory subjected to them - Russ, Russian land and its population - Russian people.

Some authors suppose a local, Eastern European origin of the ethnonym (according to the name of the river Ros).

There is an opinion of its Iranian, Baltic and Slavonic etymology. Anyway, the term 'rus' appeared in the regions of the Dnieper not with the appearance of Prince Oleg's armed forces at the end of 9th century, but it was fixed here in the middle of the century. It is also necessary to note that the problem of the origin of the name 'Rus' is not equal to the problem of the formation of the Ancient Russian State system as a social and political process. In my view, the reason why mention of the Rus is unknown before 838 is because the Royals were living in exile nomads who for a time found refuge among the Romans, many years later they return to their native lands when they are needed to establish the peace once more. But not long after they turn to destruction and the sea kings vision becomes reality in the dawn of the Viking era.

Author notes:

At some point I hope to complete this story arc, It won't be any time soon I'm afraid because this type of research is rather intensive and this is the longest work I've ever done. I am taking a break for a while to work on other projects and stretch my mind in other directions. But I am by no means abandoning this. The plot bunnies are all present and accounted for. They tell me Part three will be entitled "Rome wasn't built in a day" and will commence when our boys are back in Rome, or nearly back anyway. Rather than recount the return journey you will see some scenes in reflection. When the story commences there will be quite a bit on the much neglected relationship between Zechs and Relena… I don't know if Relena will regain her sight or not. I so know She will be strong willed and it will take time for her to get settled in her new situation but as I see it, that was the case in the series as well she WILL not be portrayed as a screaming Heero obsessed maniac. That phase is put solidly behind her. I believe it is safe to assume Romefeller and the family Barton has been up to mischief during Treize's absence. I will have to delve into that at length. If you wish to weigh on any of these or other angles let me know. Once I have enough of the next story written that I feel it is safe to post I will add a chapter bridge here, so if you have selected this story as a favorite or are set to be alerted you will know the next one is about to begin. I am stunned that this story I have received over 14.000 hits already. It has been a long journey and I hope you have enjoyed it. Many thanks to those who have taken the time to review I appreciate your support and encouragement. Also a huge thanks to TCM my faithful beta. I definitely would have had a rougher time of it without you. Thanks so very much!!! Cheers ~wraith


End file.
